When I See You Again
by burnedupasun
Summary: It's been ten years since Daryl held Beth's lifeless body in his arms. The world has changed but humanity has survived, and Daryl has survived too. He is alive; still breathing, still walking, still pushing himself to keep going year after year... until one day, it all changes when he sees a name on a list of survivors. Two words. Two syllables. Ten letters. Beth Greene.


**Well, here we are then. This fic on majorly carried away from me. It was never meant to be this long, but then... words happened. I have been working on this fic for over two weeks now, I believe. This is the first time I've published a "one-shot" on here that wasn't something under 10k. There were times I thought this might be better suited for a chapter fic, but in the end I was confident that it was meant to be written all in one long work, and I'm glad I stuck to that. It was a nice change of pace, writing something in this sort of manner for a change. I hope you all enjoy it, because it's been a labor of love. (Also yes, the mature rating is there for a reason, there are multiple sex scenes though none of them need an explicit rating.)**

 **Also, this fic is dedicated to Abelina** **( /u/612230/Abelina)** **who kept up her constant encouragement the entire time I was writing it, and is generally just an awesome friend AND an amazing writer.**

* * *

 _It's been a long day without you, my friend_  
 _And I'll tell you all about it when I see you again_  
 _We've come a long way from where we began_  
 _Oh, I'll tell you all about it when I see you again_  
 _When I see you again_

The afternoon sun shone down from a cloudless blue sky above, warming the cracked pavement beneath Daryl's feet as he strode down the street. The warm rays beat down on his back, making him glad he'd worn one of his sleeveless shirts today. It wasn't quite summer yet, but it was getting there. The weather got warmer with each day, the light green leaves of the trees were unfurling and darkening, and their several backyard gardens were already in bloom as he'd seen from his walk this morning. Given the issues they'd been having with food and supplies lately, half the complex was buzzing with anticipation for the first vegetables of the season.

Daryl had other things on his mind besides their gardens though, despite or perhaps because of his worries over supplying the entire zone. His attention was currently focused on the sound of the opening gates in the distance, signaling the arrival of the small caravan their patrol had spotted getting close to the outer walls about twenty minutes ago. As soon as the sighting had been reported, someone had been sent to find Daryl, who was now making his way towards the gates in order to greet the trade caravan they had been expecting for several days now.

In the ten years since they'd first arrived in the Alexandria Safe Zone, a lot of things had changed. Not just for him personally, not even just for Alexandria itself, but for the whole world. Or at least the part of the world they were familiar with, anyway. As the years had passed, more and more people had carved out safety in a world that had once seemed consumed by the undead. Safe Zones were created, towns and settlements and even fortresses that stood now as bastions of safety against the walker hordes. Alexandria was only one of these.

Some of the original communities eventually fell but plenty of others not only prevailed, but grew. As time gradually lowered the number of the undead and strengthened the permanency of each settlement, it allowed to focus not just within their walls but beyond, and in time they became aware of something other than their own daily struggles to survive. They became aware of each other. Given that they were the few remaining survivors of humanity clinging to a world that had for a time seemed determine to shake them off, it was no wonder that they began to reach out to one another; at first only locally and then over time by greater and greater distances, as each connection to a new community brought with it information about others nearby.

As the safe zones, fortresses, and towns eventually became stronger and their connections between other communities deepened, a system began to develop. With the collapse of society as a whole and along with it the complex system it had maintained, a lack of supplies was one of the largest issues in their new world besides walkers, of course, which had always remained a threat on some level. As they strove to survive in a world without electricity, cars, railroads, and more, reaching back in time to the systems their ancestors had once used seemed more and more natural. Trade caravans formed of wagons and the mounted riders that guarded them, following a network of trade routes, allowed for each community to transport supplies between not only the ones around it, but also between communities at great distances.

For many communities, the trade network made available supplies they might not otherwise have had access to. There were several more rural communities that were better suited to providing produce and the products of their small herds of animals, while communities nearer to former cities and urban areas had the best access to salvaged machine parts and other necessary supplies. Alexandria, for example, had a good trade in animal skins, as well as building supplies from the abandoned city around them. These were things they were no doubt grateful for, because if it hadn't been for their ability to trade with other communities, Daryl wasn't sure they'd have lasted this long. Having a safe zone near a former city might have been good for scavenging supplies at one time, but it wasn't the best place for people who now needed to thrive off what nature provided.

There had been a time when Daryl's position in the community had been as a recruiter and scout, but over the years that had evolved. Now he was the head of their trade caravan. Frequently that meant he was outside of the safe zone walls, leading the Alexandria caravan to it's next destination. When he was in residence here though, it meant he was the one who greeted the caravans from the other communities when they arrived.

Up ahead he saw the gates being carefully closed behind the new arrivals. With what little gas was left being carefully conserved for things like generators in case of emergencies, transportation had naturally shifted yet again to a method of the past, in the form of carriages and wagons drawn by horses. Today's arrival, coming from the Marion settlement in the southeast of Tennessee, had a pair of wagons each drawn by two draft horses. The rest of the party was on horseback as well, already dismounting as some of the Alexandria residents greeted them and showed the way towards the backyard that had been converted into a pasture of sorts where they could feed, water, and cool down their mounts.

For his part, Daryl headed right towards the man who was perched at the front of the lead wagon; a familiar figure with dark skin and a deceptively genial smile. He'd met Hank about four years ago, and had long since learned that while the man always had a kind word and a smile for everyone he met, he was equally quick with the axe he carried at his hip.

"It's a warm one today, ain't it?" Hank whisked his hat off his head and wiped his brow with a folded bandana before flashing Daryl one of those familiar warm smiles. "Nice t' see you again, son."

Daryl's grunt in greeting was nothing new; a decade had only had so much affect on his socialization skills. It hadn't had _no_ effect, though, as evidenced by the hint of a smile on his lips as he shaded his eyes against the sun to look up at the man and remarked, "Expected y'all about a week ago. Trouble on the road?" It was important to know, after all, especially with his own caravan heading South soon.

"Nah, nothin' bad anyway." Settling the reins aside as one of his team came around to unharness the horses, Hank rose to his feet with a groan. As he climbed down from the wagon, he went on, "Ran into another caravan over in North Carolina. Got themselves stuck when their wagon wheel broke off, noise attracted some rogue biters. Fought 'em off, and then it took us a couple days to help 'em out, stay with 'em to the nearest community so they could get the repairs they needed."

On his feet now Hank stuck out his hand, and Daryl didn't hesitate to take it, firmly shaking as Hank offered him another smile and finished, "Weren't so bad. That community we stopped at wasn't on the schedule, so we ended up with a few extra supplies. Give it a look, if y' like. I'm gonna go get the horses settled and then go find your boss there."

"Rick ain't my boss," Daryl drawled, a smile on his lips same as it was every time Hank made the same joke. 'Boss' was Hank's nickname for the people in charge of every community, pretty much. In their case it was Rick and Michonne, though Daryl could only remember Hank calling Michonne 'Bossette' once before the look she'd given him had erased the possibility of that ever happening again.

"Yeah yeah…" The man just shook his head and headed off, following the woman who was leading his pair of chestnut horses over to one of the large sheds they'd converted a few years ago into some semblance of stables. Unable to tear down the houses and expand without proper machinery, they'd had to make due; turning numerous sheds into stables and pseudo-barns, and using backyards as pastures for their very small collection of livestock.

As the horses were lead off the caravan members began to work to unload the trade wagon; the other wagon being kept for the supplies they'd take back. Daryl made his way around to peer at what supplies they'd bought to trade with Alexandria. Crouched on his haunches, he examined each of the objects unloaded from the wooden wagon, all of them marked with 'ASZ' in black lettering to signify which settlement they were bound for. Surveying the unloaded items, he spotted bags of seeds, several carefully potted plants that they'd try to get to take root here, a large amount of salted fish and canned vegetables and fruits, and more. The most exciting find were several sacks of flour, of course. Unlike Alexandria, which had no room for growing wheat, let along a large scale method of grinding flour, the Marion settlement had been founded in the same location as an old Grist Mill, which after a few repairs had been brought into relative functionality. It was their prime trade, one with an output that everyone was always glad to see.

He drew the bag of flour into his lap, running his fingers over the tight weave and inspecting the 'ASZ' logo stitched into the coarse fabric. Daryl was sure the other settlements would be be sending plenty of wheat down to Marion when the harvest for that came in this summer, and he'd probably see Hank again in the fall with another caravan of the resulting flour. Provided they had something to trade for it, anyway. But for now, this would do. They didn't use it nearly as much as they once had when flour had seemed like a given rather than a luxury.

Setting the bag of flour aside, he rose to his feet just as another familiar looking figure approached. Like the days of the past where traders might also carry letters and correspondence, the caravans were the main source of communication between each of the communities. Hank's daughter Lucy was his second-in-command, and among her numerous duties included the task of keeping track of the numerous letters passed between communities; or at least those sent via her caravan. His eyes settled on the bag she had slung across her back, and Daryl flashed her a faint smirk in greeting. "Got anythin' good for us, girl?"

"For your people? Definitely. For you?" She didn't say more, just raised an eyebrow, but it was enough to make Daryl faintly chuckle. Outwardly he seemed amused, inwardly might have been another question. Of course he didn't ever get any sort of letters like some of the people here did. All his family were here with him; those that were still alive, anyway. He didn't form friendships the way they did, didn't correspond with people he'd met in other communities except to look 'em up when he made his way through. In the few years the trade network had been up and going, he'd never gotten a letter yet.

But letters weren't all Lucy handled. On top of trading supplies, passing communication and news, and doing their best to keep an eye out for any survivors in need of homes, there was yet another thing that each caravan carried with them on their travels. They were known simply as: _The Lists_.

So many people had been separated, both in the days following the original infection and in the weeks and months and years that followed. So many people 'missing', their deaths assumed but never confirmed, their presence missed every day. Daryl remembered the first few times he'd guided a caravan into a new town, and how many people would come up to them during their stay with very specific sorts of questions:

" _Do you have anyone there named Abigail?"_  
"My brother, Jack, he was up in Virginia-"  
"-My aunt Mariposa-"  
"-My cousin, Li Wei-"  
"-brown hair-"  
"-green eyes-"  
"-about this tall-"  
"Please, if you've seen her-"

Everyone wanted to find someone. Even he understood that, despite the fact that the one person he missed most, the one person he found himself looking for, was the one person he knew without a doubt that he'd never find. Others had a better chance than him though, and in time The Lists had been created. Originally each caravan had carried a list of the residents from their own home, but in time the lists had grown. At each place they stopped a new list was made for that community, until most caravans had a thick roll (or stack, or book) of lists for all the communities they'd ever visited.

Each time a caravan would come in they'd not only update the list if needed, but make them available to be looked over in the few days they were there. A surprising amount of people had found friends and family by the lists. Even in their own community they'd experienced the surprise that could come from a close examination of those pages. Just two years ago Glenn had received a shock when he'd seen one of his sister's names on a list from a community in Ohio. He had ridden up with Daryl's caravan to get her and she lived with them now, alongside Maggie and Glenn and their daughter.

The Lists were important, he knew that. They were important to the community, to the people who were searching for those they'd lost.

The thing was… he wasn't really one of those people. Or he shouldn't have been. There weren't any names he thought might show up on those lists, no family members or friends he'd lost that he didn't know for a fact were dead. No people he had cared about whose bodies he hadn't seen with his own eyes.

And yet every time a new caravan came into town, every time he found a new community on his own, he found himself seeking out the person in charge of The Lists, as if he couldn't help himself.

"Think you might be interested, this time around," the woman remarked as she reached into the bag and pulled out a long roll of paper, bound with twine. "Got a few new lists. Keep finding new communities the further south we go, and west. Got one from Kansas, another from Florida, and one from Georgia…"

 _Georgia_. If there was a glimmer of interest in Daryl's eyes, Lucy didn't react other than to slowly unroll the stack of papers and begin to flick through them, handing the new lists to him one at a time. "Let's see, here's the Kansas one… there's Georgia… and hm, where is the other one?" She rummaged through the papers, rambling on in her melodious voice as she searched, "You know the town we stopped at in North Carolina? They just added to their list. A baby girl. Got a glimpse of her the first day were were there. Pretty little thing with these big brown eyes…"

But her words didn't register on Daryl as he stood there, staring down at the sheet of paper in his hands. It was written on what looked like it had once been notebook paper, the blue lines faded. The handwriting was neat but loopy, stereotypically feminine though you could never be sure. It wasn't the handwriting that had him frozen though, nor the number of people on the list… it was the names. Or rather one name, written neatly on the very last line, capping off the list so casually:

 _Beth Greene_.

It couldn't be her. That was the first thought to whisper through his mind once the initial shock of it faded. Those letters, that combination of looped shapes, they'd hit him as hard as a hammer to his chest. But if it was a hammer chiseling away with him, it wasn't marking out the name, no. That name was already there. It had been imprinted inside of him, seared within him over a decade ago and at the sight of it that hammer was only following a familiar echo, tracing over the letters that formed a name he had not spoken- aloud, anyway- in over ten years.

 _Beth Greene_.

It couldn't be her. It was impossible. Hadn't he held her body in his arms, felt it limp and lifeless and unmoving? Hadn't he carried that body down all those flights of stairs, never once let anyone take her from his arms? Hadn't he mourned her after, hadn't he continued to mourn her every single day for the last decade, without fail?

It couldn't be her.

And yet…

And yet hadn't he also been the one to leave her behind? Hadn't he been the one wracked with guilt almost as equally as he had been with mourning? Hadn't he been the one who woke up gasping at the nightmarish memories of the herd that had swamped the hospital, the herd that had forced him to abandon her lifeless body to the trunk of a car, leaving her behind and never returning like he'd promised?

There had been no burial for Beth Greene. Not literally and not figuratively, because she had haunted him every day since. He had never forgotten her and he never would, and maybe that was why the sight of her name very nearly brought him to his knees despite the fact that he knew in his gut that it couldn't be her. Greene was a popular name, right? It had to be someone else, someone with her name, some unaware woman who didn't have long blonde hair and big blue eyes that always seemed to look right into you...

"Where is this one from?" When he spoke his voice was gruff and hoarse, cracking in a way that didn't escape Lucy's notice.

"Hey, you alright, Dixon?"

"This one." He shoved the paper out at her, forgetting niceties and manners, forgetting all the tenuous politeness he'd learned in the past few years. "Where's it from?"

The woman looked taken apart, brow furrowed as if she wanted to snap back at him, but after a moment she peered down at the list. "Georgia. Ummm… Holly Hill Settlement. It's near, uhhh… Summerville. Or what used to be Summerville. It's by-"

But he had already turned and was walking away, blind to everything about the paper clutched in his hand except the one name on it. _Beth Greene_.

"Dixon. Hey, Dixon! I need to keep that list with the others, you know. _Dixon_!"

The sun was hot on his back again, but he was oblivious to it. Oblivious to the warmth, oblivious to the voice of the woman behind him, oblivious even to the street he was walking down, caught up only in that one name, and the thoughts all tied up in it, cycling over and over in his head.

 _Summerville. Just a little over 80 miles from Atlanta. Summerville, Summerville. Over 600 miles south of here. Summerville, Summerville, Summerville…_

* * *

Of the many things that had changed in the last decade, his method of travel was certainly one of them. Regardless of what he was in search of, gone were the days he could hop on the back of his bike and take off, engine rumbling beneath him as he left everything behind to head back down to Georgia.

Maybe if the circumstances had been different, he might have still tried. Might have borrowed some of their supply of gas and gone haring off in search of a name. But the circumstances weren't different. In fact, they were pretty solidly against him on the surface. Beth had been dead for ten years now. They all knew it. They had all seen her body, had all mourned her loss; some more than others. A few of them still mourned her to this day, though perhaps none as much as Daryl. Not that they knew, not really. That was one of the many things he still kept hidden away.

The name he spotted on that list became another secret. Had things been different, he might have told them, the same way he had when he'd spotted the name 'Rhee' on a list from Ohio. But this wasn't like that. This was the name of a ghost at worst and at best of a stranger who would likely bear no resemblance to the girl he had once known, the girl he had once…

Well.

Regardless of what Beth may or may not have been to him, Daryl still couldn't tell any of them. Or if he could, perhaps he didn't want to. He kept it to himself, hidden away in the depths of his private heart. He didn't tell Maggie, who had finished her mourning a long time ago though to her credit had maybe never forgotten her sister, if the daughter she had named Bethany was anything to judge by. He didn't tell Rick, his brother, whom he had only grown closer to over the years despite a brief rift after that big loss. He didn't even tell Aaron, his first friend here, the one who had listened to his halting stories about her late at night spoken only in the safety of darkness.

He told no one. But he made sure that when he and Rick and Michonne drew up the plans for the caravan's next journey, that the newly added community near Summerville, Georgia, was on the list of stops.

The only hesitation he had was in leaving when things weren't going so perfectly in the community. They'd been having trouble for a couple years now, rumblings of discontent among members of the community who thought they were better suited to leadership than Rick was, or who were unhappy with the living conditions. Rumblings that in the past couple months had become more open, full of more hostility and vitriol. He understood it on some level. In the long run, Alexandria hadn't been the best place to settle. There was no close water source, and without proper demolition machinery, the land wasn't exactly the best for farming and growing their own crops outside of gardens in people's backyards. They were relying more and more on trade these days, but people either didn't understand the cause of the issues or simply thought they would be better at handling it.

If it hadn't been for the name on that list haunting his thoughts, Daryl might not have gone. Might not have been so willing to abandon the community at a time fraught with tension. But Rick had insisted everything would be alright. It wasn't the first time they'd handled discontent after all; it was how Rick had taken over the leadership in the first place.

"I'll be alright, brother," Rick had reassured him with a squeeze to his shoulder. "Michonne and I will handle it, and we can get word to you if it comes down to it. Besides, we need you on this trip. We need these supplies more than ever."

So despite the faint sense of reservation, Daryl had set out from Alexandria at the head of their caravan. It had been two months almost to the day since he'd seen her name on that list, and after a month of travelling south stopping at other settlements along the way, _Holly Hill Settlement_ was finally just under a half hour's ride away. Leading the way at the front of their caravan of wagons, Daryl wasn't on the back of a loud and rumbling motorbike, but a horse instead. A few years ago even he'd have laughed at that, but he'd come along way from the man who'd gotten bucked off nervous Nellie and very nearly got himself killed. Of course it helped that his horse, a black gelding named Harley (Aaron's nickname for him, originally a joking reference to Daryl's usual mode of transportation by a man who knew nothing about motorcycle models, had unfortunately stuck) was far calmer than Nellie had ever been.

He rode alongside their lead wagon, guiding the way slowly down a road whose once-smooth asphalt was cracked and overgrown now with grass and weeds. The caravan's journey had brought them slowly South, with stops at numerous settlements along the way. They traded furs, produce, and scavenged parts and machinery for other supplies; including more seeds and seedlings, and another few sacks of flour.

And they carried with them The Lists, of course. The old leather bound journal full of pages of lists, each written down in Eric's neat, firm handwriting and carefully carried in his husband Aaron's bag, where he rode on the wagon behind Daryl. Aaron was his second in command, a man who was loyal to a fault but had no way of knowing why Daryl was looking so urgently ahead, why he kept picking up the pace only to remember to slow down for the wagons behind them.

 _Summerville._

 _Holly Hills Settlement._

 _Beth Greene._

"Hey…" His friend's voice called out from behind him, "You alright? Something worrying you?"

Daryl turned, surveying the man who sat perched on the wagon as he shook his head. Aaron looked almost the same as he had a decade ago when they'd first met, though a gradual change in their style of living had affected a similar change in the man. His hair was a little bit longer and his beard thicker, though kept well-trimmed by Eric when he was at home, and he was dressed far more comfortably and in clothes that were a lot more worn and faded by time.

"M'fine," he remarked, though that wasn't entirely true. "Just ready to get there, make this last trade and start headin' back up home."

"Well I know that feeling," Aaron replied with a faint understanding smile. Daryl figured Aaron felt that longing for Alexandria far more than he did. For awhile the man had been a wanderer just as much as he had; he and Eric feeling like outcasts in Alexandria, at least in its original form. That was another thing that had changed over time, once Rick and Michonne took over leadership of the place and especially a couple years ago, when he and Eric adopted a baby whose mother had passed away from complications on her way to the safe zone.

Daryl was pretty that their son, Daniel, was the cause of quite a few of the new wrinkles on Aaron's face; the man had mentioned he felt bad leaving Eric alone with the kid while he was going through his terrible twos. For his part, Daryl had told him more than once that he could stay behind, let someone else take over his role as second in command. Carl, in charge of the safe zone's security, was itching for a bit of a break and probably would have jumped at the chance to come with him. But Aaron had insisted.

He couldn't help but wonder if the man knew, somehow, that this trip was different. If he sensed that something was up with Daryl. Aaron could read him on some level anyway.

(Though not as well as she had been able to. In his whole life, no one had ever been able to read him as well as Beth could. Not before, and certainly not since. If he had been like a wide-open book to Beth, then he was one just faintly cracked open to Aaron, even after the last ten years.)

Whatever his reasons, whatever gut instinct had driven him to make sure to be there, Aaron was right there behind Daryl as they finally reached the split in the road and made their way up to where the other caravans had told them they could find the newest addition to the trade route.

 _Holly Hill Settlement._

Despite the name, the settlement wasn't on top of a hill. Rather it was surrounded by them, nestled in between several rolling forest hills, and built right up at the edge of a good-sized lake. A town had once been built there, or so he presumed from the others they'd run into had detailed. From what he could see as they made their way up the road, the former town had been turned into a settlement fit for the world they lived in, with a wall built high and thick around the exposed back of the settlement, right up to the edge of the water on either side.

Even with the nerves making his belly churn, he surveyed the place with a defensive eye as they approached the front gate. The lake at its back meant that the settlement only had to truly set a watch on the front. They had a single tower, and a well-built wooden wall made from large pointed logs driven into the dirt. In front of that, ditches were dug in alternating areas, leaving a path clear to the gate for careful humans while creating traps that unsuspecting walkers could fall into. There were also other defenses, including wooden stakes shoved at an angle into the ground in between the pits, perfect for ensnaring walkers that wandered through.

All in all, it was well secured, and well-located, too. The lake would provide water and fish, the woods game as well as good cover; up in the woods as they were, it was no wonder it had taken the caravans several years to find them and make first contact. It was the kind of place that he would have chosen, honestly, if he'd had the chance.

Focusing on things like that, on noticing as much as he could of every little detail of this place, helped him to not think about the other thing on his mind. The name that felt like it was burning in his mind and heart with each step his horse took closer towards the settlement and through the slowly opening gates.

Two words. Two syllables. Ten letters.

 _Beth Greene, Beth Greene, Beth Greene_.

Even as he climbed off his horse and watched Aaron bring the wagon to a stop, Daryl reminded himself of the unlikeliness of finding her here. He told himself again and again that there was no way it could be her. She was dead, she had been dead for over ten years now, since he'd failed her by losing her not once, but twice.

It couldn't be her, and yet, and yet, and yet…

And yet as someone from the community approached, Daryl found himself slipping off to the side of the wagon and casting a glance in Aaron's direction. "Listen, can you handle the trade and all, introduce yourself to whoever is in charge, you know, the usual? I, uh…" He awkwardly ran his fingers through his shaggy hair, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Got somethin' I need to go check out." Seeing Aaron already opening his mouth to question, Daryl hastened to add, "Don't ask, okay? Just do it." He cleared his throat, looking down at the ground and then slowly back up at his friend, speaking a word that was rarely ever issued from his lips. "Please?"

Taken aback, Aaron just gave him a slow nod of agreement and that was how, after the person in charge of greeting them introduced himself and offered to bring them someplace to sit down and talk, Daryl ended up slipping off on his own instead.

Like Alexandria, it was easy to see the bones of the town this settlement had once been. The paved streets still remained, cracked but somewhat cared for. On either side were several houses, and as he crossed through the center of the walled-off settlement, he spotted a few former businesses that seemed to have been converted into more appropriate uses. What looked like an old pharmacy for example had kept its cross logo out front after being converted into what seemed to be a clinic. Through the gaps in the buildings he could see farms along the edges of the walls, empty space cleared out to make room for the growing of far more crops than Alexandria had. In the distance he heard the lowing of cows interspersed with the occasional bah of sheep, and people made their way around him as he walked, eyeing him with interest and occasionally giving a friendly wave.

He only stopped to talk to one of them, and his stomach felt like it had plummeted to his knees as he grunted out her name for what had to be the first time in a decade.

"Looking for Beth Greene. Y' know where I can find her?" Daryl ground out the words in a gravelly tone, feeling like every inch of him was on edge as he peered down at the shorter man who he'd stopped in front of the small row of former businesses.

But the man didn't look perplexed or annoyed, just smiled easily back at him. "Oh, Beth?" Daryl's traitorous heart leaped into his throat at the sound of her name on the stranger's lips. "She lives down that street, over there. It's a white house a blue door, you can't miss it. She should be there 'bout now. If not, y' can try over at the Council, or maybe out on one of the farms…"

A grunt of thanks was all he could manage. Despite his attempts to tell himself not to get his hopes up, despite his determination to repeat the logical arguments against what he was about to go looking for, he was still on edge. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been keyed up like this… and yet, anxious and nervous and sick with it as he was, it was also the most _alive_ he'd felt in a long time. Maybe even in ten years.

It was the most alive he'd felt since, well... her.

His steps carried him down the street in the direction of the house he'd been told to look for, but he weight of memories was heavy on his shoulders and caused his feet to drag as he both hurried and hesitated in alternate moments. The sun was bright above him, and when he heard from his right a soft peal of laughter, it had him remembering a more melodious laugh and the way it would echo soft and sweet through the forest. The sunlight glimmered on the trees, turning the leaves a yellow that reminded him in some way of a flash of blonde hair. The sky above almost the same blue as a certain pair of wide, doe-eyes.

She was everywhere, despite the voice whispering in his mind that she couldn't really be.

Yet still he remembered other things, too. Like the last time he spoke to her, the last thing she'd said directly to him; not _oh_ , but _I'm not gonna leave you._

 _I'm not gonna leave you._

But she had. She'd left him behind and though he continued to exist in this world, continued to find some semblance of purpose in this life (or try to), it had never entirely been the same. He had always felt like he was simply _existing_ and not truly living. There was a difference. He knew there was, because it was Beth who had shown him that. Beth with her arm outstretched, flipping off a burning cabin. Beth with her innocent eyes showing him how the simplest things were beautiful. Beth and the soft echo of her sweet voice, better than any jukebox he'd ever heard.

Lost in his thoughts and his memories, he didn't realize he had reached the house until a child's laugh cut into the haze of his mind again and pulled his focus forward. There it was just as the man had described; a small white house with a blue door. There were cinderblocks lined along either side of the door, each of them filled with white and yellow daisies in their first bloom. The home looked well cared for; the grass was long but not overgrown, and through the gap at the side of it he could faintly see a small fenced off garden.

Before he could work out a plan of approach let alone make for the front door, something happened that pulled his attention. The door began to open on its own. It swung out, and in just a few seconds a figure had stepped through. It was a woman; small and graceful but with a strength that was visible in her muscled arms even from here. She wore worn jeans and black boots with a brightly colored top that stood out against the blue of the doors. Her blonde hair was swept into a ponytail that drew his gaze, and as she turned to close the door he saw that she had a crossbow strapped to her back.

It couldn't be.

This was the house, but it couldn't be right. That same litany of reasons rushed through his mind all over again, flashes of her lifeless body repeating on a loop in his mind, and yet, and yet…

And yet she turned towards him and with the tilt of her head he saw a tiny little braid swinging against her ponytail. His stomach lurched and everything around him seemed to still. In slow motion he registered a little girl running across the street with an excited exclamation. He saw the blonde-haired woman turn and crouch to meet the girl, saw her lips part, saw her tip back her head in a laugh that echoed through the air and cut right through him. It knifed right into his chest, parrying open his ribs and exposing his heart, so clouded and shriveled and hidden away after all these years. Her laughter pierced him right there, left him trembling and rooted to the spot, unable to move either forward ( _it can't be her, it can't be her_ ) or back ( _I should go, I should go, this isn't my place_ ).

She turned.

She turned and her head lifted, and as her hand smoothed over the hair of the child in front of her, the woman's eyes fixed on him where he stood in the middle of the street. She saw him, his hair in his eyes and the leather of his vest sticking to the back of his neck and every inch of him frozen and trembling… and she spoke.

"Daryl?" Her voice penetrated the haze in his mind, soft and sweet and oh-so-familiar. "Daryl Dixon?"

And he felt his knees go weak.

Something had gone wrong with time. Or maybe it was just him. It seemed alternatively to pass like molasses and then speed like lightning; one moment he would feel as if everything was happening in a cloudy, slow-motion haze, and then suddenly it would be sharp and crisp and too-fast. One moment the blonde-haired woman ( _Beth_ ) was still standing there in the lawn of the neat little house and then, in what seemed like a blink of his eyes, she was standing right in front of him.

Or a few feet away anyway, where as his gaze focused on her he thought he could see a hesitancy in her movements. Her hand raised, outstretched but not quite reaching, her brow furrowed, and something like doubt and hope flashed across her face all at once as she whispered, "Daryl?"

"It ain't possible," he ground out raspily, holding still even though his tired old knees felt like they might give out at any moment. Just like his heart, barely holding it together in his chest. "It ain't…"

"I could say the same for you," she breathed out, and lord if the little hint of a smile that crossed her lips didn't just twist that knife where it was buried deep in his heart.

"You died. I saw you. I _held_ you." His vision wavered for a moment and he saw her again, saw the blood staining her hair, saw her lifeless eyes and her limp body, remembered the weight of her in his arms and how it had made him stagger and god, he felt like staggering again, would have except somehow he was rooted to the spot and couldn't move.

"I know," the woman ( _Beth, Beth, Beth_ ) murmured, taking one more step towards him, still reaching but not quite touching. "But I'm not a ghost, Daryl. I'm-

( _Not just another dead girl._ )

"-alive. I'm alive, Daryl. It's really me." Her words, her voice, they dropped into his mind and sank down deep into his chest, like a stone plunging into a lake and in the process sending ripples across the surface; ripples that in his case manifested in the shudder that went through his body. His thoughts began to calm, the surface of that inner lake smoothing out… and when it did, his head slowly lifted. The haze receded from his gaze, his eyes focused, and in his newly sharpened gaze he saw her. _Truly_ saw her.

Saw the curve of her cheek, the brightness of her blue eyes, that soft pale skin barely aged, the sweep of her sunshine-blonde hair… and the scars, faded but still present. One marred her cheek, another marked above her right brow… and there, above the left, a small round circular scar remained.

His lips parted, and with a rush of air he exhaled, "... Beth?"

Somehow she ended up in his arms. He wasn't even sure how, because time did another one of those sharp leaps. One moment he had been staring at her, whispering her name, his knees trembling, and then in the next her arms had been around him, squeezing him tight. Instinct took over as warmth flooded his frozen body, thawing it until he was able to move once again. One of his arms slipped around her back to hold her close but the other came up, cupping the back of her head as he turned his own to press his face into the crook of her neck and breathe in deep.

She smelled like sweetness and sunshine, something he'd never forgotten even after a decade without her. The familiar scent only made him clutch her closer, his hand curling into her shirt at her back and tugging her in, fitting her body against his. She was still so damn small compared to him and yet he could feel a strength in her body, could feel that in their time apart she had grown even stronger, physically.

But he wasn't really thinking too much about that. Cataloging the changes in her seemed pointless right now when he was still just amazed to have her in his arms, when some part of him was convinced that this couldn't be real. That it had to be some kinda dream. Maybe he'd gotten bit on the road, and this was all a hallucination… though as good as his memory of her had been in dreams, he'd never quite managed to get right the feeling of having her in his arms.

So when he finally caught his breath (still clutching tightly to her) he managed to get out in a gruff, breathy voice, "How? How're you here?"

"That's a long story…"

He heard the amusement in her voice and could picture the smile without needing to pull away. To his surprise he found himself chuckling in return, and as his hand brushed slowly up her back he murmured in a thick voice, "Got all the time in the world, Greene."

For her? Of course he did.

Just like he had the time to stand there holding her close, both of them just breathing the other in, the warmth between them far more than the warmth of the sun above.

* * *

It took some time for them to disentangle themselves but eventually Beth ended up guiding him up the walkway to the little white house. She seemed disinclined to let go of him, and since it meant having her fingers laced through his (he could only faintly remember the last time she'd done that), Daryl didn't have any desire to protest. Plus he was still in a daze, half unable to believe this was really happening even with her fingers twined with his own, despite the fact that he'd just spent a good five minutes just standing in the street clutching her warm and living body close.

 _Alive, alive, alive_. It didn't feel real. It felt like a dream; but if it was, then he never wanted to wake up from it.

"I actually share this house," she remarked, passing by a cinder-block full of daisies and climbing the steps of the front stoop. "Holly Hill isn't big enough for people to have their own places, after all. I live here with Mei and Jarielys, they were part of the original group of us who built this place…" Beth glanced up at him, blinked, and then chuckled. "I guess that's getting ahead of the whole story. Here…"

Turning, she lead the way into the house, waiting until he stepped inside to close the door behind her. The front door lead into a good-sized living room, which like the homes in Alexandria it was a mix of past and present. Old furniture still in relatively good condition was situated around the room, but there was no longer a television or a phone, and no framed photographs dotted the walls or surfaces. Instead he spotted an old fashioned sewing machine on a table in the corner, one like the several they'd collected in Alexandria that needed no power to work. There were some books stacked on the shelves but no magazines, instead the coffee table held what looked to be several potted plants in various stages of growth.

"Those are mine," Beth remarked as she tugged gently on his hand and lead the way past the living room. "I have a good herb garden growing, but we get some tough rain around here. I like to let them grow a bit and get stronger before I move them outside. We actually have larger gardens of course, but I grow a lot of the medicinal stuff myself here, I always have. I tried convincing everyone to let me move them to the main gardens once but they swear it's all stronger and better when I grow it here. Frankly, I think-"

They reached the kitchen and Beth broke off, glancing up at him with a flustered and almost embarrassed look on her face as she gave a soft little laugh. "Oh lord, I'm rambling aren't I?"

"You've always been a talker," he remarked with a faint smirk. There'd been a time when it had driven him nuts. When he felt hounded by her sweet voice, following him through the woods, going on and on and on. He hadn't fully understood just how much he'd gotten used to it, just how much he'd come to _like_ it… until she was gone. For the last ten years he'd only heard her voice in dreams, in whispers in his mind, and hearing it again now barely changed, it was almost too much.

Without hesitating he reached out, fingers grazing lightly over the curve of her flushed cheek. He couldn't seem to stop looking at her; it was like he felt that if he blinked or looked away, she might disappear. Like she might reveal herself to be some figment of his grief-tormented mind and fade away into nothingness once more. But instead her eyes held his, big and blue and full of the same emotion that had Daryl giving a sharp little intake of breath before he caught himself. Flustered himself he cleared his throat and pulled his hand back, looking around the kitchen to cover his brief awkwardness.

Here again was a mix of old and new. The walls were painted a yellow that might once have been bright and cheery, but had since faded to something mellow but no less pleasant. There was a round wooden table and four chairs on one side of the room, but most of the kitchen was taken up by some sturdy looking counters and a kitchen island. Like most of the homes he'd seen in the modern settlements, the appliances were gone, long since collected so their parts could be converted or saved. He saw an old wood-burning stove where an electric one might have once stood, and the fridge was gone as well, only a slightly discolored spot on the floor to indicate where it had once stood. In the cabinets above the counters he saw rows of food in glass jars and cans, and over the island was a rack he assumed was once used to hold pots and pans, but now was strung with drying herbs that lent a pleasant smell to the sunny room.

"Would you like some tea?" Beth was already moving, reluctantly releasing his hand and grabbing a bowl from the counter. He stood there, hands stuck into his pockets, watching as she opened the back door and turned to face a barrel that was tucked against the back wall of the home. She crouched down carefully and turned the spigot, holding the bowl there to fill it with water. Feeling his gaze on him she looked up and smiled as she brushed her hair back from her eyes. "It's rain water. We get water from the lake, but we use a lot of that for the irrigation system, you know? Plus, I think rainwater tastes better. Every house here has one of these-" She patted the barrel in front of her. "We figured out how to make them in one of the books we found, oh… I think like six or seven years ago? There's sand in there, to filter the water…. it's complicated, I guess." She paused to close the tap and then rose to her feet, the bowl of water in her hand and a smile on her lips as she came back inside. "Actually it's not that complex really, I'm just… I'm flustered, I guess. Seeing you, it's just…"

"Unexpected?"

"No." She set the bowl on the counter and reached for a nearby kettle, only to go still before slowly turning to look over her shoulder at him. "I honestly always thought you'd come, some day. You know, that you'd find me. I guess I just didn't realize how it would make me feel."

Suddenly unsure, Daryl ran his hands through his hair, scrubbing one over the back of his neck as he shifted in place. "That a bad thing? The way you feel?"

"Oh no." Beth breathed out the words without hesitating, a radiant smile curving up her lips as she watched him. When she smiled like that it was like the sun peeking out from behind the clouds, its rays glinting across the sky."It's not bad at all, Daryl. It's amazing. It's… it's just so much amazing that it's kinda…"

"Overwhelming?" He knew that feeling.

"Yeah. Exactly." With a soft smile she turned back to the counter, focusing on pouring the filtered water into the old tea kettle and carrying it over to the iron stove. For his part, Daryl never once took his eyes off her. Seeing her here like this was like seeing a ghost, and again he couldn't shake that feeling that if he looked away she would vanish; into his dreams, his nightmares, his memories.

Only he knew that this was nothing from his memories. This was all new and just as he couldn't stop watching her, he couldn't stop drinking in the differences, too.

She had aged without a doubt, although so well that she still looked incredibly young and not the 29 years he knew her to be now. There was still a grace to her movements but a sureness, too, a confidence that had been present all those years ago and had only grown over time. As he studied her he could see the defined muscles in her arms, and even shifting a bit beneath her shirt where it covered her slender back. He didn't wonder how she'd gotten so strong there; she still had that crossbow slung over her back but she carried the weight as if it were nothing at all.

He could see that strength and grace in her movements as she turned back to him and made her way towards the table."It'll take a little bit. The wood stove is great, but I still miss electric stove sometimes, you know? Even gas. It takes a lot longer for water to boil. C'mon, sit down." She nudged him towards one of the chairs as she slung her crossbow from her back, hanging it by its strap from the back of the chair beside his before sitting down herself.

"C'mon," she said again, propping her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. "I'm not gonna disappear if you sit with me."

The light words hit harder than perhaps she'd intended. Grief spasmed across his face and he sat down hard, with an unexpected thump that had her brow furrowing. She reached for him, resting her hand on his forearm as she whispered, "I'm sorry. I know…" She shook her head. "Ten years, and I still manage to open my mouth around you in ways that make me wanna insert my foot."

With another rough clearing of his throat, Daryl gruffly replied, "You're out of practice. Ten years is…"

"A long time. I know."

Daryl blinked at her, opening and closing his mouth, feeling his stomach churn and his heart clench before he blurted out before he could stop himself, "I thought you were dead. All this time, and I thought-" The frustrated sound he made was almost a growl as his fingers curled into a fist against the surface of the table. "Why didn't you come find me?"

She seemed to falter, hurt and guilt and maybe even shame flashing across her face before she finally whispered in a pained voice, "How, Daryl? How was I supposed to find you? You know how big this damn world is? Even after I got out of-" But she trailed off, shaking her head. "No. That's not the right place to start. I want to tell you everything, Daryl. I just… I need to start at the beginning."

"So start," he grunted, his voice low but not angry. He wasn't angry, not at her. He could never really be angry at her. The world, yes, but not her. For her there was only curiosity in his eyes, a need to know the truth, a need fueled by ten years of feeling the pain of her loss, of feeling that empty ache from the place in his heart that bore her name. He turned his hand so his fingers grazed her palm, and ground out, "Start from the beginning. Start from when you..."

"Okay." She curled her fingers, tightening them around his hand before leaning back against her seat with a slow nod. "Okay. I'll start with the day I died."

The emotion heavy in that sentence had them both hesitated for a moment; him trying to gain control of the pain curling fingers through his chest and her doing her best to collect her thoughts before she began.

"The last thing I remembered was being in that hallway in the hospital. Being so angry and upset, and turning towards Dawn and then just… nothing. Blackness. Even now I don't really remember anything after that, just occasionally something sort of hazy and jumbled and then… and then waking up in a hospital bed again." With her free hand, Beth tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear and sighed. "They only told me after I'd woken up what had happened. That you guys tried to carry my body out, but a herd of walkers attacked. That they watched through the window and saw you put my body in a trunk to keep me safe… and then you left." She drew in a deep breath and pressed her eyes shut before exhaling raggedly. "They went out and got me, after the walkers had cleared away. They thought I was dead, they figured they'd bury my body or something, I dunno. But I wasn't. Dead, I mean. I was breathing, somehow, and they… they saved me. Dr. Edwards, he saved me. The man was a self-serving asshole-" The curse coming from her made a smile flicker across both their lips, "-or he could be anyway, but he saved me. I always figured that made us even, all things considered."

"They said I was unconscious for over a week before I woke up, and I know I was in that bed recovering for a long, long time after. Months, really. Maybe it would have been less before all this, if the hospital had more supplies but…" She shrugged. "The truth is, I don't even know why they did it. Why they saved me. I mean I got Dawn killed and none of them liked her but the truth was, she was a better person than most of them, and that's _really_ saying something." Her lips twisted into a frown as she toyed with the braid that tangled within her ponytail, twisting it between her fingers as she mused, "I dunno, maybe it was misplaced gratitude. Maybe they weren't all so bad, maybe they wanted to use me again…" Beth trailed off, shaking her head. "I guess it doesn't matter and I'm getting off track anyway."

"When I first regained consciousness, I was a mess. I couldn't talk at first. I mean I could make noises but they weren't words, just a bunch of sounds that felt all wrong in my mouth. It took me months, years even, to get as good at speaking as I used to be. Even now sometimes if I get really emotional or upset, I just… I dunno, it's like I forget. Like the words just turn to mush in my mouth. I had to re-learn how to read, and count, and I would get these excruciating headaches… I still get them sometimes." She rubbed her fingers over her temple as if remembering the sharp pain, and gave another soft sigh. "It didn't help that I couldn't remember a lot at the beginning, either. The recent stuff I was fine with but my past, things like that, it was kinda hazy. I sort of got it all back in pieces over time, but some of it is still fuzzy."

Splaying her hands against the surface of the table, Beth looked down at the grained wood as if studying it. Her lips were pursed and her shoulders tight as she gave another little shrug. "There was more. There were a lot of things I went through, things I still go through because of what happened to me. The trauma wasn't just physical, you know? It was emotional, it was spiritual... But… but I lived, and that's the important thing. That's what you want to know, anyway, that's the part you care about. That I survived, in the same place that very nearly killed me more than once."

Having bit his tongue while she told him the beginning of her story, Daryl found he couldn't hold back when it came to that last statement. Determined to be sure she knew the truth he leaned forward, looking right into her eyes as he told her in a firm and honest voice, "I care about all of it, Beth. Not just how you survived. I mean that."

Her gaze held his and after a moment she smiled faintly and relaxed, shifting her hand to curl over his again and give it a soft squeeze. "I know. And some day I can tell you more. But it's a long story as it is and I _would_ like to explain as much of it as I can. But first…" She drew her hand back and rose to her feet, and it was only when she stood up that his focus shifted and he became aware of the boiling kettle behind her. "Time for some tea…"

He watched her securely shut the heavy stove door and close the dampeners to put out the fire within, and as she moved to one of the cabinets and pulled out a large mason jar, she remarked, "We actually grow our own tea plants. The people we met a few months ago from that first caravan, they were really happy when they found out. Apparently it doesn't grow well up north, and not a lot of settlements have it, so it'll be good for trade."

From one of the drawers she pulled two old tea infusers and filled them both up before reaching up to pull down two mugs from the cabinets above her. Moving with an ease that suggested tea was a regular occurrence in her home, Beth settled the infusers in each mug and filled them both with hot water from the kettle. "Here we go," she murmured, coming over to the table and setting a mug in front of each of their spots.

"Now…" Beth wandered back to set the kettle back on the stove and then finally returned to settle into her seat and look up at him, her gaze holding his for a moment before she questioned, "Where was I?" Her fingers toyed with the infuser, making it lightly bounce in the water as she shifted in her chair and cleared her throat. "Right, the hospital. So… it was a few months before I was well enough to get out of bed, let alone to leave. I actually thought they wouldn't let me leave, same as they refused to before but… Well to be honest I think they figured I'd be too much trouble. I mean, I caused enough trouble for them even before I nearly got killed."

"Wait," Daryl had wrapped one hand around his mug as he watched her, his brow furrowed again even though there was a faint smile on her lips. "What kind of trouble did you cause them?"

"Didn't Noah tell you?"

"I… never asked. After you… I mean at first, I just couldn't. Couldn't talk about you, couldn't even really think about you." And then Noah had been gone, but he didn't want to tell her that yet. It was her story right now, not his, and he wanted to let her tell it.

"Well… I guess that's another story, really. Another one of those things I'll tell you some day, you know?" She twisted her wrist and dipped the infuser once more into the steaming liquid. "Just trust me when I say they had good reason to think I'd have trouble, so once I was well enough they offered me the chance to go. And I took it. I didn't want to stay there, not after everything that had happened. Even if they'd saved me. I couldn't stay in that place a moment longer, but I didn't want to go alone either. There were other people being held there, you know. People who had been trapped there by them and forced to stay."

The guilt Daryl felt made him shift again in his seat. He remembered Rick asking if anyone wanted to come, but that offer wasn't really any balm against that kind of guilt. How could they have expected that to be enough? They'd had no idea of the situation, the pressures inherent in the structure of that place, not to mention the fact that all those people had just seen two women die and had likely been stunned and incapable of making any decisions. The offer, tossed off in the heat of an emotional moment, was a pathetic excuse for a rescue attempt. Then again, none of them had really cared, at the time. Even he could barely remember anything from those moments except Beth and her fragile body and how light it had been as he'd lifted her into his arms.

Through the haze of memory, Beth's voice penetrated again. "I guess I scared the cops there enough that they were willing to let a few of them go, if they wanted to come with me. In the end there were five of us. Me, Mei, Jarielys, Marcus, and Percy."

None of the names were familiar to him, but then again, he'd known nothing of that place except that it had captured her, and Carol. He only recognized the first two names because he knew she'd said they lived here with her, but he didn't question. It was, after all, her story to tell.

"We managed to get out of Atlanta together, but we didn't know where to go. I wanted…" Her voice caught and he saw her fingers twist tighter around her warm mug, saw the muscles in her throat jump faintly as she swallowed hard. When she spoke again her voice was strained, "I wanted to find you. All of you. I wanted to go after you all and find you, but I-" She broke off and pressed her eyes tightly shut, and for a moment he saw her hands trembling around the mug before she drew in a deep breath and exhaled.

"It had been almost six months, Daryl." Beth opened her eyes and looked at him across the table and for a second he felt like it wasn't just a few feet between them, but a decade-wide gulf. Maybe she felt it too, because both of them shifted at the same moment and their hands met in the center. As his large, work-rough hands curled around her much smaller ones, something in the air between them seemed to loosen. Like the connection was the reminder they needed, like it was the oil that could loosen years worth of tension all bound up in rusted old joints.

With her hands in his Beth relaxed a tiny bit and went on, "I had no idea how to find you, or where you went. I thought about Richmond, for a moment, because Noah had said… But I didn't know if you'd gone that way, with him, or if he'd gone on his own. I didn't know if you'd stayed in Georgia or left, and I mean… even if I'd known you were in Georgia, how would I have found you?"

Her breathing hitched, and her felt her hand tense beneath his even as he held it tighter. Now when he looked into her eyes he could see tears there, shining against the blue of her eyes as she choked out, "It hurt so much, Daryl, every day. Knowing you were all out there somewhere and I couldn't find you. Knowing you all thought I was _dead_ , and I couldn't show you otherwise. The thought of you and- and Rick and Carol and everyone- the thought of you mourning me and-"

"Shhh…" He was up and on his feet before he even realized it, crossing to her side and leaning down to wrap his arms around her and draw her to his chest without hesitation. "It ain't your fault, Beth. You're right. You had no way of knowin' where we were, and you couldn't go wandering around lookin' for us. Even if you had, you might never've found 've been in Virginia, Beth. Over 600 miles away from here, and it ain't like we left no signs behind for you, so it's okay. It ain't your fault. Hell, even if we had left signs somehow and you'd decided to stay here, it wouldn't've been your fault. You did what you had to do, to survive. That's what matters."

With his arms wrapped tightly around her, he could feel Beth's trembling slowly easing. Her face had been pressed to his chest but she drew back after a few moments, blinking up at him, a wet smile on her lips as she asked, "When did you get so good at that?"

"At what?" He asked, baffled.

" _Talking_." The word burst out of her with a few giggles as well, and as she wiped her eyes and drew back a bit, she teased, "I mean there was a time you'd have just grunted at me, or maybe growled."

"Well I can growl, if it'll make you feel better…"

"No." She inhaled and exhaled slowly, and this time the smile she gave him was far less tremulous. "I think I'm good. But thank you. Honestly."

He held her gaze for a long moment before, with a nod, he returned to his seat. But this time he shifted his chair closer to hers, keeping even less distance between them as she looked down at her tea. "I think this is just about ready. We don't have sugar of course, but we've got honey. Have you ever kept bees, before? It's… not my kinda job but it's interesting." She rose to her feet with a smile, moving towards one of the cabinets and going up on her toes to bring down a jar of honey. "Six years now and I still can't fully shake the urge to swat them away if they get close to me. I stick to my jobs, and let the bee people handle them. But the honey? It's amazing…"

She was rambling a bit again, but Daryl didn't mind letting her. After ten years of not hearing her voice, he would have listened to her recite the dictionary if she'd wanted to, and he would have relished every moment of it. Just like he equally would have sat there in complete silence, just watching her silently stir honey into each cup of tea before sliding his over right in front of him.

When he reached for his mug his fingers curled around hers and for a few seconds he felt them both still, heard her breath hitch at the same time his did. He was struck by the urge to just hold her there so he could just _look_ at her, this woman he never thought he'd see again in front of him like this.

After a moment she slipped her fingers out from under his, but she didn't go far. She lowered herself back into her seat only to scoot it a little closer to him so there was really nothing other than the corner of the table between them now. She even leaned slightly towards him as she wrapped her fingers around her mug and brought it up to breathe in deeply and then exhale in a sigh again, "So where was I?"

"You left Atlanta, with the people from the hospital…"

"Right." Beth took a careful sip and then set the mug down in front of her, her eyes finding his as she went on, "Do you remember one of the conversations we had once? About the woods, and how to find safe places? High up, by a water source…"

"...somewhere you could have a clear line of sight, but also woods close enough to hunt in?" He remembered. They'd been sitting almost this close, except around a fire instead of a table. It had been edging towards evening but not dark yet, not enough that their fire would draw attention. The air had smelled like woodsmoke but also like the sweet scent that clung to her hair even dirty as it was, blowing lightly in the faint breeze. They'd spent the day teaching her how to track, how to spot game trails. She'd been scribbling in her journal and then she'd just looked up at him and asked him such a simple question. Something about them living in the woods or what he'd look for, if they wanted to find some place to stay and build a new home.

"I always did listen to your lessons, didn't I?" Beth chuckled. "Even if I was a pushy brat about getting them out of you."

"You weren't a brat." Though he didn't deny the pushy bit, and a faint smile tugged at his lips to be mirrored on her own.

"I see how it is…" Chuckling, Beth raised her mug to her lips for another sip, and then sighed. "Well anyway, I took your advice. We headed up north, into the national forests. My idea was to find a place to stay. To _really_ stay, not just for the night or a few days before running again. And… well, we did." She raised her hands, gesturing around her with a smile. "We found this place. Cleaned out the houses, found places to stay, built what we could for protection; makeshift walls and ditches, blockades of old cars. I used to go hunting, especially after I found this crossbow on one of our runs." She reached behind her, fingering the strap where it hung on her chair and flashing him a little grin. "You know, when I picked it off the shelf they all looked at me like I was crazy? Thought I couldn't shoot it, but I showed them."

The pride that shown in her eyes was mirrored in his own, he knew that. Suddenly he was struck by the urge to see her shoot that weapon. How long had it been since he'd watched her hold his own? Watched her unsure grip grow steady, watched her fight through her hesitancy and even once through the pain of a bear trap just to level it and fire it. He wanted to see that again, wanted to see how good she'd gotten, because he knew she had to be incredible by now. She'd always been a natural. But that was something for later. Now he just watched her silently, a hum on his lips as she went on, "It was just the five of us at first. but eventually there were more. It took time… after Grady, none of us was really ready to trust people, you know? And I couldn't help remembering the prison, and the Governor…"

For a moment Beth's fingers tightened around her cup and again he reached out to her without thinking, letting the rough pads of his fingers graze over the back of her hand until she drew in and out slowly again and gave him a nod. "It took a long time to get to what we have now. The five of us built the first wall ourselves, you know… or the four of us, mostly. Percy was too old to help really, but he was great at the research. We'd go out on runs and bring back books along with everyone else; books on building houses and farming and survival in general. He helped design the wall we have now; the first one was just, you know… scrap metal and old doors and anything we could cobble together."

She looked down into her cup and sighed softly. "He's gone now. Percy. He passed away about a year or so ago." But when she looked up at him there was a smile on her lips, sad though it was. "Old age. Nothing bad, you know? And he was happy, I think. He used to talk like we were his kids or something. He always reminded me of… of Daddy."

This time he saw her lower lip quiver but his hand was already there, wrapped around her own. She turned hers to squeeze his fingers, and then managed a faint smile. "Hey, you're not drinking your tea. Come on, I grew those leaves myself, don't hurt my pride, Dixon."

Unable to resist her playful scolding, he brought the tea to his lips and took a sip. He'd never really been a 'tea' kinda guy but these days you took what you got. It wasn't like anyone really had coffee anymore, and he had to admit the tea wasn't so bad.

"Anyway… I guess over time we made this place pretty good. Strong. There was trouble, but isn't there always? Once towards the beginning a herd came through and we almost didn't make it. Then another time, about five years or so ago, there was another group. Raiders, you know? We'd picked off smaller groups before, assholes who thought they could sneak in and steal from us in the middle of the night. But this was different. These people, there were like twenty of them I think. Men and women. They stormed the place, and we lost people, but we won in the end."

Again she shifted in her seat and when she met his eyes he saw a familiar haunted look in them. It was the same look he'd seen in Rick's eyes before, the look of someone who was supposed to be a leader, but had lost the people they were meant to protect. Beth had always had a big heart, and he could only imagine how much that had hurt her, how it had added to her guilt. So it didn't surprise him when she went on, "After that, we sort of… withdrew, I think. It had always been the plan to try and be more self-sufficient. Less runs, less trips out, less opportunities to run into bad people or lead them back here. I guess that's why it took us so long to meet one of the caravans. To realize just how many other people might be out there, in places just like ours."

Quietly she took another long sip of the tea, waiting until he mirrored her to set her mug down. Only then did her eyes find his and her voice, soft and warm, issued from across the table, "When I put my name down on that list, I think I knew, somehow. I knew you had to be out there. I thought- hoped- that someday you'd find it. I _knew_ you'd come, when you did, even if you thought I was dead."

"How? How did you know?"

"Because you're Daryl. You're… you're just _you_. You'd _always_ come for me, just like I'd have come for you, if I could. I mean you did, didn't you? Back then, at the hospital? You came for me… and for Carol."

"For _you_." His voice was gruff with the weight of those memories and he pushed his mug of tea aside to focus only on her. "Came for you, Beth. Saw one of them cars and Carol and I followed it. I knew you were there in that damn city and I had to find you. When Carol got taken… we were already comin' for you, Beth. I had to go back and get the others to help, I thought- I thought I needed them, maybe I didn't. Maybe if I'd stayed, you wouldn't have-"

"Daryl…"

"No, Beth. It ain't like I'm mad, not at you, it's just-" He ran his fingers roughly through his hair as a growl rumbled in his chest. "For ten fucking years I've been wonderin' what I did wrong. If I'd not suggested we stay at that funeral home, if I hadn't made you run without me. If I'd run faster out of that car, kept pushing instead of stopping. If I'd ignored Noah and gone after you and Carol, if I'd listened to Rick's plan and had us all go in shootin', if, if, if…"

"But you didn't. And you can't change that, just like I can't change any of the things I did. And in the end, well… we're here, aren't we?" Her hand reached out for his, fingers trailing over the back of it.

"Sure. Ten years later." He felt like those ten years were there with him in physical form, a heavy weight sitting on his chest and weighing down his heart.

Until she looked at him and smiled, and the brightness of it lit up everything and began to push away that darkness as she murmured, "Yeah. But we're _here_ , now. We found each other again, in the end. Even if it did take forever."

Daryl didn't know what to say to that, because it was too much. Not in a bad way. It was too much _good_. It hit him like her smile did, bowling him over, making him feel off kilter. After ten years of loneliness and guilt and missing her, he didn't know how to handle having her right in front of him… except to hold on to her hand, and not let go.

Which Beth didn't seem to mind, by the way her thumb stroked over his hand and her eyes lingered on his, looking just as happy and awed to be sitting next to him again, too.

When she finally broke the silence with a gentle squeeze of her hand, it was to say, "Your turn."

"What?" He blinked away the haze that had come with her smile, and raised a slow eyebrow.

"Your turn, Dixon. I told you my story, now it's your turn. You said you guys went to Virginia?"

"Yeah. Yeah." Daryl swallowed, took a moment to catch himself, and then began to tell her everything. He wasn't as eloquent as her, but he managed it in his own rough, halting way. Told her how they'd followed Noah to Richmond, and found what was left of his family. How they'd lost Tyreese, and then decided to continue up to Virginia, towards D.C. Told her about Aaron and Eric and Alexandria, and how they'd made a home there. How it hadn't been so good to start, but over time it had gotten somewhat better.

"I was a recruiter, at first. Used to go out with Aaron, looking for people."

"I can see that. That makes sense." When he furrowed her brow at her, Beth just gave him a knowing smile. "You've always been a good judge of people, even if you didn't realize it. Plus… you must have hated it there." Another furrow from him and another smile from Beth, who just shook her head. "I haven't forgotten all I knew about you, Daryl. The way you're describing how that place used to be, all pretty houses and white picket fences? You must have felt so uncomfortable. I know I would have. You know, the first couple months we were here, I used to sleep outside."

That surprised him. Despite how she had gotten used to life on the road and in the woods, he remembered how happy she'd been each time they found a place to stay. How much she'd talked about missing her bed, her blankets, her pillows. "Why?"

"I couldn't do it. It felt like a cage. Like the walls were closing in on me." She licked her dry lips and cleared her throat. "I think it was a part of… how things were different for me, after what happened. The trauma of it. Like I said, it wasn't just physical." Another 'hem' in the back of her throat, and Beth shook the thought away to look at him. "Anyway, I only meant to say I understand. How you might've felt, I mean."

"Yeah, well, it didn't last forever. Once we all started communicating with the other settlements, developing the caravans… that became my job. I lead the caravan for Alexandria. It's important, especially for us. Making our home in a city the way we did, ain't as much room, or any place to spread out like here." Pushing away the worry that uncurled little tendrils in his stomach every time he thought too much about the troubles back home, Daryl added, "Rick and Michonne, they're in charge back there now. Carl, he's pretty much in charge of security these days…"

" _Carl_." Beth perked up a bit, her voice breathy with surprise. "Oh lord, he's, what… 24 now? 25? All grown up…"

"You think that's somethin', you should see Judy. She's gettin' so big. Almost 11 now."

"Judith… she's alive?"

The emotion in her voice and etched across her face hit him hard, and he found his hand clenching around hers even as the other came up to rake roughly through his hair. "Shit, I should've told you that sooner. Yeah, Beth, she's alive. Mika and Lizzie got her out, they were with Tyreese and then Carol... "

"Mika and Lizzie?"

"They didn't make it. I dunno what happened. But Judy made, and she's as sweet as ever." He wanted to say 'you'll see' but it suddenly struck him that he didn't know. Beth had a place here, a home. She belonged. Would she want to leave? Want to return to the family she hadn't known for ten years, and leave beyond the one she had now?

Before he could even think to ask, Beth was drawing his attention with another squeeze of her hand around his. "Who else, Daryl? Who else is there?"

"That you know? Sasha, Carol…" Eugene and Tara and Rosita, too, but she didn't know them and that would mean nothing to her. Just like it wouldn't affect her to know that Abraham was gone, or Father Gabriel too. Instead he looked her over, and hesitated only a moment before going on, "Glenn…. and Maggie, of course."

"Wait." Her hands loosened around his and her brow furrowed. "Maggie is… Maggie's alive? Maggie's okay?"

"Of course she is," Baffled, he started to go on, "Why wouldn't you think-" But then again, why would she? Beth hadn't seen a single sign of Maggie after the prison, just like Judith. And at the hospital…

"She wasn't there, though." There was something in her voice that made his stomach clench. Something painful coming from the distance but slowly getting closer as the full realization began to dawn on her. "In the hospital, when you came to rescue me, she… she wasn't there. I looked for her, but… her and Glenn, they weren't there. I thought… I thought something must've happened to her, that you never found her, because if you had… she'd have been there to rescue me, wouldn't she?"

He didn't want to tell her the truth, but he knew he had to. Knew she deserved to know it, _needed_ to know it. It would come out anyway, eventually. So despite his reservations, he cradled her hand in his and looked her straight in the eyes as he told her the truth. "We found her. She was at Terminus, and after that she was at the church with all of us. When I was gone, when Carol and I went after that car to find you… the group split up. Rick wanted to wait to find me and Carol and Bob, but Abraham wanted to go to DC, with Eugene and Rosita, and…"

"And Maggie went with him." There it was, in her voice. A deadness that had him feeling something like cold fingers clenching around his heart even as it made him want to reach out and drag her into his arms. "She went with him, right? Her and Glenn? And that's why they weren't there, when you came to rescue me?"

"She was there. Just… too late." He swallowed hard, dragging up his memories of that horrible day to finish telling her the truth. "They didn't make it anywhere near DC. In the end they came back to the church and Michonne was there with Carl. They drove to Atlanta to meet up with us… but they got there too late. They got there right when I was coming out of the hospital with you…"

"Oh." Beth swallowed hard, and said again. "Oh."

Her voice was so small and broken, and her face was so pale that it made his stomach want to twist into knots again. "Beth?" Worry was thick in his voice, but when he reached for her arm she didn't move.

"I don't understand why she would have gone with them, though," she whispered, eyes distant and dark with pain. "You told her, right? Told her I got taken, that I… that I wasn't just killed by a walker or nothing?"

"I told her." It was the truth, as much as it pained him to tell her. Just as it pained him to watch her sitting there in silence as understanding dawned, making pain spasm across her face and darken her eyes.

"She thought I was dead, didn't she? She didn't think there was a chance of finding me at all, so she didn't even try."

"Beth, your sister was scared." He hadn't thought he'd find himself making excuses for Maggie, but in the face of Beth looking so broken and hurt, he couldn't help but try. "She'd lost your Dad, and I don't think she wanted to consider the pain of losing you too-"

"No. No I just…" She rose to her feet so suddenly that the chair clattered to the floor behind her, and he knew that something had changed. He could see it in the paleness of her face, the way her chest rose and fell with her sharp breaths and her body began to tremble in a way she couldn't seem to control. "I just- I can't. I need to get out of here, Daryl, it's not you I just- I can't breathe, I can't-"

He didn't think, didn't hesitate. The panic seizing her was a sensation he knew himself, though not at the intensity Beth seemed to be feeling it. Still it was enough to understand. Even if her panic had been foreign to him, he couldn't bear the sight of her coming undone in this way.  
She was standing right there in front of him falling apart and all he wanted to do was help her.

So he did. He crossed the distance between them and lifted her up into his arms as if she weighed nothing at all. "I've got you," he murmured, cradling her bridal style.

The last time he'd done this her body had been lifeless in his arms, but not anymore. Now she was alive, trembling and upset and needing him to help her, and that was exactly what he was striving to do. He carried her bodily right out the back door and into her yard, away from the confines of walls and ceilings and into the open air. He moved away from the house until he heard her drag in a deep breath and then he lowered them to the ground right there on the grass in the middle of her garden, without letting her go.

"I've got you," he murmured again, shifting her in his arms until she was kneeling between his knees facing him, cradled against his chest with her face tucked into the crook of his neck. His hand ran up and down her back, guiding her with his own deep breaths until he felt hers begin to slow. Until the rise and fall of her chest matched his own, and the racing of her heart slowed.

"You're good at this," she murmured when she was able to talk once more, the words and her breath ghosting over his neck.

"Yeah, well…" He didn't know what to say. It wasn't like he'd had practice or anything. It was just her. Beth. He'd do anything for her, and in the face of her panic it had all seemed instinctual.

They stayed there in the quiet, interrupted only by the chirping of birds and the occasional voice from the street beyond the house, until Beth's breathing began to ease. When she spoke again, her question was soft, a near whisper. "But they're okay? Maggie and Glenn and… and everyone?"

"They're okay." His hand brushed up and down over her back in a rhythm that he had a feeling was soothing for them both, not just her. "They have a daughter now… her name is Bethany. She looks like Glenn, but she's got Maggie's sass, you know?"

"Maggie was always a brat when she was a kid…"

"Mmm." His hand moved in slow circles now, around and around, memorizing the warmth of her beneath his touch. "Rick and Michonne are together. It took them forever to come out with it… took them even longer to figure it out."

"They were always good together. Good partners, you know?"

"Mmm."

"Anyone else?"

He shrugged, his hand dipping down enough that for a brief moment his hand brushed over her skin where her shirt had slipped up a bit. That tiny hint of skin beneath the pads of his fingers almost made him shudder, but he fought himself for control and focused instead on replying, "I think Carl has a girlfriend, but it's hard to say. Kid turned out kinda private."

"And what about you?" The question caught him off guard and he looked down to see her pulling back, her gaze meeting his as she studied him. "Did you settle down, Daryl Dixon? Did you find someone to… to be with?"

"No." He didn't even have to hesitate. The truth just came right out of him, and as he lifted his hand to tuck a bit of hair behind her ear, he added softly, "There's never been anyone. Not since…" He swallowed hard, but for once he didn't stop himself. For once he didn't just try to communicate in stares and grunts. He'd had enough of that. He'd had ten years of regretting the things he'd left unsaid, ten years of wishing he'd just opened his goddamn mouth and told her what he was feeling. He hadn't known then that it would be his last chance to speak to her for over a decade. He couldn't know now how much time they had together either. So this time he let his fingertips graze her cheek as he finished, "Not since I lost you."

Daryl had never been the kind of person to really feel much when it came to attraction. For the longest time he'd thought that was just how he was; that he was just different. That he wasn't designed to feel that stirring inside, to feel that pull towards something either emotionally or physically. Then he'd met Beth and he'd thought that maybe, just maybe, there could be something there. Something new, and different. Something good. Only he'd lost her, and after her, no one had ever made him feel that way again. Until now.

And Beth held his gaze, her lips parting, a look of warmth and surprise and understanding in her eyes as she breathed out, " _Oh_."

This time there was no clang of cans, no poorly timed interruption. Fueled by ten years of missing her, ten years of wishing she was there so he could act on what he felt, he finally did just that. There was no hesitating, no worrying… There was only him shifting both hands to cup her face, only her leaning in to meet him, only their lips pressing together in a soft, slow kiss.

He'd thought he felt alive just holding her again, but that was nothing compared to this. To the heat he felt, to the warmth and sweetness of her lips and the way she sighed into it as her fingers curled into his shirt.

And it definitely didn't compare to the look in her eyes when she broke the kiss to catch her breath, and smiled up at him to murmur back, "Me either, Daryl. There hasn't been anyone like that since you."

He would have given her an 'oh' of reply, but in the moment, it seemed like a far better idea to just kiss her again.

* * *

"You'll stay here tonight, right?"

It was a half hour later and they were still laying there in the grass in the shadow of her house. He was on his back now, with Beth tucked up against his side. Her arm was stretched over his chest and her lips, swollen from all their kisses, brushed against his cheek now after she asked her question.

"The caravan ain't scheduled to leave for at least a few days, Beth. I ain't goin' anywhere… even then."

The _not without you_ remained unsaid but beside him, Beth gave a soft smile. "No, I just meant… you're staying _here_ tonight, right? In my home." She hesitated a moment and her lips brushed softly up his cheek towards his ear, where she murmured, "In my room?"

Oh. _Oh_. After they'd slowed down on the kisses the tightness in his pants had begun to ease, but now? Now he felt it all over again, and it was all he could do not to grab her and pull her in, or maybe roll over to pin her to the grass beneath him. She just brought something out of him, something _fierce_. Fiercely protective, fiercely caring, but also fiercely desirous. As if there had been an animal within him caged away for his entire life and her kiss had been the key that had set it free to prowl.

For now he controlled himself though, turning to meet her gaze as his hand brushed lightly over his arm and he replied simply, "Yeah. I'm staying here, if that's where you want me."

"I wouldn't want you anywhere else," she murmured back with a soft, happy smile that took his breath away.

Beth was laying right there half on top of him, her face scant inches from his and yet a part of him _still_ couldn't believe she was real. That she wasn't just going to fade away again and disappear.

 _Ten years_. His hand clenched reflexively at her back, tugging her a little bit closer, and he saw something flash across her face, a look of understanding that deepened as she reached up to run her fingers lightly through his hair.

"I'm not going anywhere," she murmured softly, echoing his own words from just a few moments ago. "Okay?"

"I know. It's just…"

"You keep thinking I'm gonna vanish, or something?" To his questioning look, she only smiled. "I just know because I feel the same way. Like if I turn away too long or close my eyes for more than a second I'll open my eyes and realize it was all just a dream." Her smile faintly widened, tugging up the corners of her soft lips as she added, "I guess I'll just have to keep my eyes on you for a bit…"

"Oh yeah?" He chuckled, the laughter rumbling through his chest and faintly shaking her where she lay on top of him. "All the time, hm? What if I decide to take a shower or something?"

Above him she grinned, and a little breathy giggle of her own slipped free. _That_ did something to him too, made that animal in his chest want to give a low rumbling growl, though again he ignored that feeling in favor of looking up at her and rolling his eyes. "Yeah yeah, me takin' a shower, ha ha. Ten years an' people still make that damn joke…"

"No, it's not that." Her lower lip was caught between her teeth and she nibbled at it while she traced her fingers down over his chest. Only when he raised a questioning eyebrow did she go on in a teasing murmur, "Well what makes you think that you taking a shower would require me taking my eyes off you, hm?"

There it was again. That tightening in his pants, the rumble of the beast within, the desire to roll her over and press her into the fragrant grass and kiss her until she could barely breathe, let alone murmur such tempting things to him. But instead he curled his fingers at her back and groaned, " _Beth_..."

Her lips found his in a soft kiss, lingering for a few seconds before she drew back. "C'mon," she murmured, rolling away to sit up and stretching out her hand to him. "Let's go."

"To where?" He was ashamed to hear his voice crack just faintly as he asked, "The _shower_?"

"No, silly." She smirked. "Not yet, anyway. It's getting towards dinner time. People will come looking for me if I don't show up." She took his hand and climbed to her feet beside him, but when she saw the reluctance on his face she turned towards him instantly. Her hands and arms slipped around his waist and she stepped close, tucking her slender frame against him and looking up into his eyes. "The sooner we go meet everyone and have dinner, the sooner we can come back here and go up to my room, and have it be just us. That's all I want too, Daryl." A faint smile crossed her lips and she added in a near-whisper, "I almost feel like I could lock myself away with you for ten years, just to make up for all this lost time. But tonight will do, for a start… or it will if we get going, first."

He guessed she had a point. In the end, it was only the promise of coming back here tonight that had him following after her, down the path and the side of the house and out to the street beyond.

* * *

In the end it wasn't so bad, meeting Beth's new extended family. It hadn't been all of them, just the people she was close to that she had dinner with every night. Beth explained that they rotated houses, on the days they didn't go to the community dinners. Tonight had been at the home of Marcus, the one remaining man who had escaped Grady with Beth and the others.

A few inches shorter than Daryl himself and with the sort of frame that had probably been a bit stocky before the end of the world helped everyone get too thin, he could see how the quiet, unimposing black man had once been seen as a potential captive by a bunch of asshole cops. Marcus might have been more of the silent type, but as far as he could tell, the man was more than happy. Beth introduced him to his wife Amanda, and their little son, Dean, who was just about four years old, and he suspected that had a lot to do with Marcus' seemingly constant smiles.

He'd also got to meet Beth's house-mates, the other Grady survivors. Mei, a tall but willowy Chinese girl and Jarielys- "Jari" as they called her- who was about the same height as Beth and had seemed the quiet type, until the end of dinner when she'd tripped, stubbed her toe on the edge of the table, and burst into a flurry of Spanish curse words.

The whole evening was a bit hectic, and not just for all the questions about him. What had been the most incredible was watching Beth like that in her element. Not only seeing her help Amanda with the dinner, or make sure to ask everyone about their day, but seeing all the things they asked her about, too. Plans for drawing up a new work schedule, discussions about holding a settlement-wide meeting to finalize the plans for their new caravan, talk about a hunting trip soon… it was obvious how much she'd come into her own. That she was a _leader_ here.

It was only more obvious on their way back, when even the short walk from Marcus' house to Beth's was slowed by people constantly stopping to ask her for advice or just to say hello.

"Sorry," she murmured, not for the first time. Despite all the interruptions, her hand still held his as it had most of the night, and she squeezed it yet again in apology.

"Don't," Daryl replied easily. "You're important here. Ain't nothin' wrong with that. An' they're smart, for puttin' you in charge."

"Well I'm not exactly in charge. It's, well… we have a council. Like we did back at the prison?" For a moment her gaze looked distant and he wondered what she was remembering. Maybe just the past in general. Maybe her father, who had been on that council, or the fact that back then Beth had mostly been in the background, watching Judith or helping out with certain things, never helping to make decisions like she did now. Maybe she was seeing the vast differences between the girl she had been then, and the woman she was now.

After a moment she went on softly, "Anyway, originally it was me, Mei, Jari, Marcus, and Percy. After Percy left, we added Sheila in her place. She's an older woman, very smart… she's really good with the animals. Used to be a vet, just like Daddy."

"Sounds like you have good people here." The words were harder to say than he'd expected, and he knew why, though he didn't want to admit it. Because Beth had family here. She had a home, she had a place where she was needed. He couldn't tear her away from this place, he didn't want to… and yet, could he leave behind his own family?

Too many questions (and doubts) were burning in his mind, but all he wanted to do was focus on the blonde next to him, with her sweet smile and her soft voice. "We do. There are a lot of good people here. Mei and Jari, they've become like sisters to me… you know, I actually officiated their handfasting. It's like a wedding, but-"

"I know," He smiled, remembering the ceremonies between Tara and Rosita, or last year between Michonne and Rick finally. "We've had a few of our own."

"It was lovely. I was so happy for them, you know, they really helped each other heal, after everything we went through. I mean, we all helped each other, we all relied on each other…"

He knew what she was saying, or rather, what she wasn't saying. She'd had them to rely on as friends, but not in the same way. Not in the way she might have relied on a partner, might have relied on, well… him. If that's what he was, or rather, what he could have been. Because that was all they'd had, back then. _What if's_ and _could haves_. Until now.

As they reached the steps leading up to her home, Beth tightened her fingers in his and met his gaze with a soft smile. "I missed you, you know. Ten whole years, and there's so much I feel like I should still say, but when it comes down to it I just… I _missed_ you."

He turned towards her, his free hand slipping around her back to tuck her against his chest again. This time when he leaned down he pressed his forehead to hers and just rested there, so close that when he breathed in it was like every inch of him was surrounded by the scent of her. As his eyes half-shut and his hand splayed against her back, he murmured lowly in return, "Missed you too, Beth."

It was impossible to encompass just how much he'd missed her in those four words. It was impossible to explain how there had been an emptiness inside of him, an _ache_ that had persisted for over a decade. How it had felt like his heart was shriveling up and going cold and dormant, and that suddenly now he felt it warming again. As if her presence brought with it a warmth that sank through his aching, weary bones and right to his core, to unfreeze the cage of ice around his heart and bring it back to life.

But then again, he didn't really need to explain it all to her. He'd heard the same message in her own words that he knew hung heavy in his own.

Somehow they managed to separate enough for Beth to open the front door so they could get inside. Though he knew they were enough apart to properly walk, they somehow seemed to always be touching; her fingers curled in his, their arms brushing, her hip meeting his side, his hand sliding over the small of her back.

The home was dimly lit by the setting sun, and Beth detoured them through the kitchen where she lifted a lantern from a hook on the wall. As his hand slipped over her hip and he leaned in to rest his chin on top of her head, Beth pulled open a draw and fetched out a short off-white candlestick. "Beeswax," she explained, but this time though she smiled, she didn't give him any more rambling detail. She just laced her fingers in his and held the lantern in the other, guiding him into the living room where she paused just long enough to light the candle from the fire and gently press it into the lantern.

With the flickering light lighting their way and their hands firmly entwined, Beth turned and led him upstairs. If he felt somewhat nervous, it was only minimal. Maybe ten years ago something like this might have made his stomach churn, might have made him feel unsure and hesitant, but after ten years away from Beth, ten years spent convinced she was dead and that he had lost her, there was no need to feel unsure now. There was no need to worry or question that this was anything but right.

"Mei and Jari's room is downstairs," she murmured, as they reached the small landing at the top of the stairs. "My room is really more of an attic, I guess, but I love it."

He could see why the moment she pushed the door open and lead them inside. The room was large and open, with a high sloped ceiling from the roof they were directly under. A window at the far end of the room was open, creating an airflow that he could tell must have helped make it feel less confining. Certainly the whole space was airy and open, with the high ceiling and the wooden beams above, and when he remembered what Beth had said about being unable to sleep inside for so long it was no wonder she'd chosen this place to settle.

On the left side of the room was a low bookcase that looked hand-made, filled with a variety of books whose titles weren't visible from here. On top of the bookcase was another candle in a holder, unlit for the moment. Beside the shelf of books was an old armchair, the fabric worn on the arms but the cushions soft and comfortable looking, and beneath the window was an old trunk, the lid of it opened to reveal neatly folded clothes and a spare blanket.

The last glimmer of light from the setting sun filtered through the window to pattern the floor in front of the trunk. To the right of the bars of reddish-pink light and tucked under the sloping roof was a mattress set on the floor without any bed stand, covered in an warm looking old quilt and several pillows. Beside it he saw a low nightstand that looked like it had once been part of a tree trunk, cut down to about several inches of wood that had been turned into a low side table.

As he looked around them, Beth stopped long enough to pick up her crossbow from the floor beside the door and hang it's strap from one of the pegs on the wall. The one next to it held a winter coat and on the third peg beyond it hung a backpack that looked packed and ready to go in case of emergency.

The room was undeniably Beth to him. Not just for the sweetness in the air, but for the simplicity of the whole space and how cozy and homey it was. He remembered her cell back in the prison. Like there, he saw drawings pinned up on her walls and little collected knick knacks that decorated the space but didn't clutter it. There was a little vase of dried flowers on the nightstand, as well as a carved wooden bird and an old porcelain bell on the bookshelf beside the unlit candle. Like her cell, the place felt welcoming and inviting, too. He felt at ease standing inside of it, despite the space not being his own.

Still holding his hand, she crossed towards her bed and set the lit lantern down onto the little wooden nightstand before she turned to him with a smile to softly comment, "Normally I'd light the other candle, too, maybe read for a bit to unwind, but…"

For the first time he saw a hint of a flush to her cheeks, though she didn't otherwise seem nervous. He still felt unexpectedly calm. Reaching out to slip his hand around her waist again and pull her gently close, he didn't feel like he was stepping forward into some strange unknown. He felt like he was coming home.

That feeling only persisted as Daryl's hands spanned her back and he leaned down to press his lips to hers in a slow, lingering kiss. It wasn't their first kiss, they'd long since passed that hurdle down in the grass of her yard below, but he still felt that odd sort of dissonance. That disbelief that she was there in his arms, that this wasn't something he was going to wake up form. That the warmth of her lips and the sweet taste of her on his tongue was real and not imagined, not a dream, not some fantasy of a mind twisted and warped by guilt and pain and longing.

Against her lips he exhaled breathlessly, "I still can't believe…"

"I know," Beth whispered, her hand sliding up to tangle in his hair and her lips parting against his in a soft kiss before she breathed out against his mouth, "So let me show you." The warmth of her beneath his hands seeped to seep into his bones, and the words on her tongue only fanned those flames as she went on, "Let me show you how alive I am, Daryl…"

There wasn't a single part of him that wanted to say no to that. Instead he let her guide his hands down to the hem of her shirt, and when she broke the kiss to pull back, he carefully drew the shirt up and over her head to let it fall to the floor.

She wore nothing beneath the discarded top. There was just an expanse of pale, smooth skin, from the delicate curve of her neck to the jut of her collarbones and down, to the temptingly perfect swells of her pert little breasts. The sight of her almost brought him to his knees there beside the mattress, or at least he felt like it could have. She was so beautiful; the kind of perfection he felt deserved to be worshipped. Just seeing her like this, bared to the waist, was enough to send not only a jolt of heat right through him but also a stab of something else, something sharp and soft all at once, something like need and desire and longing (and love) all melded together.

"See?" Beth reached for his hand again, guiding it up over her stomach and between the curves of her breasts to press his palm lightly over one, right above her heart. "Right there, Daryl. Feel it beating?"

The rhythm of her heart pulsed it's beat against the palm of his hand; _alive, alive, alive_. He felt not only that unceasing rhythm, but so much more. He felt the warmth and smoothness of her skin. He felt the heat within him, simmering like a low flame that began to rise at the softness of her breast beneath the rough of his hand. He felt his temptation, the desire to hold her close and lower her to the mattress, to kiss over every inch of her, to map out her skin, to _feel_ the warmth of life in every inch of her.

" _Beth_ ," he exhaled, breath hitching, his other hand reaching to curve around her hip.

"I'm right here," she murmured, leaning up on her toes to wind her arms around his shoulders, allowing his other hand to slip down over the dip of her waist. "I'm not going anywhere, Daryl."

He bent to meet her at that, slotting his lips over hers with a low hum that only barely hinted at the need within him. He might not have been able to express it in words but he didn't need to. His body expressed it for him; in the way his lips parted hungrily against hers, and in the way his hands firmly gripped her hips and lifted her up just enough so that he could bring her with him as he lowered their bodies down to the mattress.

Still fully clothed, he knelt on the bed and lay her down beneath him. Without breaking the kiss Daryl let his hands brush up over the curve of her hips and waist, until he felt the softness of her breasts beneath his palms again and felt her break the kiss with a soft gasp in response.

Hesitating, he drew back to look down at her. He wanted to be absolutely sure that she wanted this, that she wasn't having any last minute reservations, that she didn't need him to slow down. He would have slowed down in a heartbeat if she'd wanted. He would have stopped, too, for her; no matter how badly he wanted her. No matter that it felt like ten years of grief and longing was welling up inside of him, fueling him, making him ache for more. He would have stopped, still. But when his gaze met hers, Daryl saw nothing like that in Beth's eyes. He just saw longing, and desire, and something warm and welcoming that only further fueled that fluttering needy sensation within him.

Beneath him Beth arched her back, gently pressing her breast against his hand in an invitation he had no desire to ignore. His hand shifted to cup her breast in one palm as she sighed in pleasure. Her skin was so soft and smooth against the rough skin of his palm, and as he gently caressed her he thought he could feel the fluttering of her pulse right against his hand again. It was just another reminder of how very real this was, how _alive_ she was. That reminder, combined with the feeling of her rosy nipple hardening to a pert bud to press against his palm, was enough to make him groan low in the back of his throat.

Unable to resist, he found himself leaning down and pressing his lips to hers in an urgent kiss. The very air between them seemed to sizzle, he felt like he could taste the electricity of the moment on his tongue, even as his whole body tingled with desire and need. Beth wrapped her arms around him, her slender little hands brushing down his back to slip under his shirt. That first graze of her palms against his warm bare skin had him shivering, lips parting in another low growl that rumbled through both of him as his hand reflexively squeezed her breast and made her arch up with a low noise of her own.

And then, unexpectedly, he felt her hands slip further up. Felt the palms of them graze his upper back, right across the old scars branded into his flesh. In an instant every inch of him froze, tension tight in all his muscles as Beth broke the kiss with a questioning noise to look up at him.

"Daryl?" Her soft, sweet voice was like a key, unlocking the knot of tension within him so that he could exhale it in a rushed release of breath. Still he hovered above her, unsure of what to say, let alone do. Her hands had stilled on his back and he wondered if she had felt what lay beneath them yet. If her hands moved she would feel them for certain, the lines of his traumatic past etched permanently on his skin like a crisscrossed map of his childhood abuse.

As if his thoughts spurred her, Beth's hands began to move and above her, he felt when she sensed the changes in the pattern of his skin. Her breathing hitched but only for a moment, as the pads of her fingers traced up over the line of a long scar. Like a psychic might read the lines of someone's palms to tell their future, Beth read his past in the raised marks of his back, a story told in lash marks and weals that would never fade, and that still sometimes ached in remembrance just as he did inside.

Eventually her hands smoothed out over his back, cupping the warm scarred skin and drawing him down until her lips lightly pressed to the corner of his mouth. She said nothing, and he was grateful for that. He didn't need pity or platitudes from anyone, but especially not from Beth. What he needed was exactly what she gave him; acceptance, understanding, no questions or pained expressions. What he needed was her lips brushing across his own and her hands slipping down slowly to curl into the bottom of his shirt without a single word.

She began to lightly pull the fabric up, but slowly, giving him all the time in the world to stop her if he wanted to. Instead he leaned up, drawing back to let her pull the shirt over his head and toss it aside. As soon as the fabric fell to the ground it was forgotten, right along with the tension in his body and the worry over how she would react. All he could feel now was her body beneath his, the sensation of her warm skin against his own as he leaned down to rest his body lightly against hers, the warm softness of her sweet lips.

Wrapped up in each other, his legs tangled with hers and her arms wrapped around his back, they kissed for what felt like hours despite the fact that it was probably only several minutes. Time didn't really matter in that moment, though. Nothing mattered. Nothing even registered, beyond the intimate space they shared, nothing but the softness of her skin and the curves of her breasts pressed to his firm chest and the taste of her on his tongue as he slipped it into her mouth.

At some point his hands drifted down to the waistband of her jeans, lingering there, fingers slipping under the fabric to tease the flat of her stomach. Again Beth's hand found his, slipping between them to guide his fingers directly and purposefully to the button of her jeans. Something about the way she kept encouraging him like that had him chuckling, chest rumbling with laughter even as he reached between their bodies and deftly undid the first button of her jeans.

"What?" She asked breathlessly, breaking the kiss to look up at him with a dazed smile.

God, she looked gorgeous. He almost forgot to answer because he was riveted to the sight of her like that, hair coming loose and framing her face, her lips pink and softly swollen from kissing _him_ , her eyes so big and blue…

Her giggle had him blinking, coaxing the words out of him in a gruff voice, "Nothin'. Just… you're good at makin' sure I know you want this."

"Because I do," she breathed out, her eyes holding his as she raised her hips, inviting his fingers to draw down the zipper of her jeans. "I want this. I want you, Daryl. More than anything. And I have for a really, really long time…"

His laughter seemed unimportant now, and for the moment so did any attempts to remove Beth's jeans. All that mattered was leaning in to look down into her eyes, to brush his lips over hers until she was sighing beneath him, and then whisper back, "I want you too, Beth." And just to remind himself yet again that he really, truly wasn't dreaming this, he let himself get lost in kissing her again.

Somehow in between the parting of lips and the sliding of his hands over her hips and hers down across his back, they managed to remove even more clothing. Beth's jeans were slid off and discarded at the foot of the bed, and her hands found his pants in return, undoing them in between kisses that were punctuated by the sort of breathy sounds he just wanted to earn more of.

There was a rhythm to their being together. It wasn't entirely smooth, and not just because of his own inexperience. There were times when he would fumble or hesitate, or when she would move the wrong way in his arms, but it was never uncomfortable. It was impossible to feel uncomfortable when she would giggle all soft and breathy each time, or bring him back to her with a brush of her lips against his. So in between caresses and kisses and soft little sighs, barely breaking off their kisses unless they absolutely had to, they eventually ended up naked and tangled together on the bed.

When he finally pulled back to look down at her, the sight beneath him very nearly drew him right back to her lips again. She was so incredibly perfect, so _gorgeous_. Every inch of her soft, pale skin, faintly colored by time out in the sun, presented such a tempting expanse of flesh. The gentle swells of her breasts led down to the dip of her waist and the curve of her hips, and there between her legs a little thatch of blonde curls, damp with desire for him; a sight that rendered him briefly breathless.

The desire that had her so sweetly slick also had him hard and throbbing against her thigh, his hips instinctively pressing down as if he could ease his need with a little pressure even though he knew that the only way to sooth this desperate ache would involve far more than that.

This time he only hesitated for a second before she was reaching for him, brushing her hand down his side to his hip. "I'm sure," she whispered without him needing to avoid the question, a faint smile on her lips as she added, "If you're sure."

Sometimes he had a hard time finding any words at all, let alone the right ones. But in that moment, he felt as if they were just pulled right out of him, drawn to the surface by the heat of her body and the emotion in her eyes to tumble from his lips in a low, rough reply, "Ain't never been more sure of anythin' in my life."

With that he felt her hand slip between them, felt her fingers curled around his hard length to guide him between her legs. He'd already been groaning at the feeling of her slim hand around his cock, but god, that first press against her slick folds and the subsequent feeling of her wet heat was almost too much. _Almost_ too much, because it was also everything, and he had no desire to stop.

Inch by inch Daryl pressed into her, her legs wrapped around him and her lithe body arching beneath him with a gasp and a breathy moan. One hand pressed flat to the mattress beside her head and the other brushed up over the curve of her hip as he finally settled within her, every last inch surrounded by her tight heat.

They stayed like that, neither of them wanting to move except to get closer. He leaned down over her under her arms wrapped around his back, and after a second his own arms slipped beneath her body, pinned between her back and the mattress in his effort to hold her close. His face pressed to her bare shoulder as Beth's found the crook of his neck to press her lips there with a soft sigh. He was surrounded by her, wrapped up in her, closer to her than he had ever been to anyone in his life; not just physically, but emotionally too.

And he could feel her heartbeat against his chest. Could feel her faintly throbbing around his length, could feel the rise and fall of her chest and the exhale of her breath against his skin.

 _Alive, alive, alive_.

It wasn't just her. He had never felt so alive in his life as he did right then, with their bodies joined together.

" _Daryl_..."

That was all it took. One soft moan of his name and he was moving again, rocking his body down to press himself deeper into her. They stuttered, faltered, but only for a moment before they found a natural rhythm. They were in sync in a way he had never experienced before. Every thrust down was met by a lift of her hips, every little gasp from him echoed in a breathy moan from her. His fingers splayed against her back, hers curled into his, he throbbed within her and she tightened around him.

His blood pounded in his temples and echoed in his ears and he knew that her heart pumped to the same unceasing rhythm because he could feel it against his own, beneath his hands, all around him.

"Beth," he gasped, awed and worshipful as he trailed his lips across the line of her shoulder and dipped down to taste his collarbone. "God, Beth…"

She answered with an arch of her hips, the dip of her back curving as she exhaled another moan and clung to him even more tightly. He knew it wouldn't take long for either of them. After ten years of longing on both their parts, this was never going to be something long, or drawn-out… not this time, anyway.

So when he felt her begin to shiver beneath him, felt her begin to tense and tighten around him, all he wanted to do was help her find what her body was searching for. He wanted to help her over that peak, send her tumbling right over the edge. With another low moan of his own he slipped one arm out from underneath her and let his hand slide between their bodies, palm gliding over the slightly sweat-slicked skin of her taut belly and down between her legs to where she was so perfectly wet for him.

He knew he'd found what he was searching for when her hips bucked up and she cried out in pleasure. With the brush of the pads of his fingers across her clit he did his best to bring her closer and close to the edge, and it seemed natural even in the heat of the moment to give a low chuckle as she angled her hips to guide his fingers to exactly the right spot. Showing him yet again not just that she wanted it, but exactly what she wanted, too.

That was his girl. His Beth. She was so damn _perfect_... and she deserved this.

She deserved everything in the world, but he was more than happy to start with this. With her body curving like a tightly strung bow beneath him, and her lips parting in a cry of his name that echoed through the lofted attic as she shivered beneath him to the same rhythm of her throbbing clit.

With her pulsing around him, it was all he could do not to come over the edge himself. He held back by sheer force of will, but not for very long. Only as long as it took for Beth's eyes to flutter open, for her to reach between them to curve her fingers around his slick, hard cock where he was still buried within her, and breathe out huskily, " _Please_ , Daryl…"

That was all it took. With a groan he pulled from within her, letting her stroke her fingers over his length once, twice, and bring him right to his undoing. He came with her name on his lips, spilling across her hand, barely managing to keep himself from collapsing on top of her as his body shuddered through his climax.

He wasn't sure how long they lay there like that in a tangle of sweaty limbs, their gasped breaths mingling in the air. Daryl only knew that at some point he rolled onto his back and brought her with him, so that her legs were bracketed by his own and her slender body rested easily on top of his broad chest, letting her hair spilled over his shoulder as she tucked her face against the warm curve of his neck.

He only knew that eventually he remembered to lean over to blow out the lantern with a purse of his lips and a puff of breath, and that after some time, as the room filled with darkness, he felt asleep to the rhythm of her heart beating against his chest.

* * *

The next morning he'd woken up to her still curled against his chest, with his arm resting protectively across her back. Her hair had seemed to glow in the morning sunlight and when she'd tipped her head up to look at him with a sweet, hazy smile, he'd known instantly that it was the most gorgeous sight he'd ever woken up to.

He hadn't wanted to ruin the idyllic moment with words at all, let alone the sort of questions brewing in the back of his mind. Or maybe he was afraid to know the answers, to find out the truth to the worries that plagued him: _What now? What next? Where do we go from here?_

Instead, after ten years of guilt and sorrow, he let himself be swept up in the happiness that she brought with her. From breakfast, to her errands around the settlement, they never left each other's side and were rarely not touching. If her hand wasn't in his than his hand was on her back or hip, or he had his arm wrapped around her as she leaned against his side.

It didn't go unnoticed, but all he saw on the faces of the Holly Hill residents were smiles; happiness from every one of them, for the woman who had been family for ten years now.

His mood only faltered faintly when she brought them to his caravan, where they were in the process of loading supplies onto his wagon and unloading the other. The wagon was a physical reminder of the questions stirring in the back of his mind, all his worries and doubts.

It wasn't that he thought he'd lose her. He had no plans of being anywhere but at her side now that he'd found her again. But at the same time it felt wrong to think of so easily leaving his family behind, just as it felt wrong to tear Beth away from this place and the people that she loved, the people that relied on her.

He was afraid ask her for a solution, afraid the answer would involve too much pain for either of them.

But despite his attempts to avoid the question, she must have seen something in his eyes. She'd always been able to read him, after all, and ten years apart didn't seem to have diminished that in the slightest.

"C'mon." Beth murmured, lacing her fingers in his and tugging him away from the wagons. When he shot an unsure look at her, she just smiled in return. "I want to show you something."

When she smiled at him like that, it made him feel like he'd follow her pretty much anywhere. Just like he did this time, not hesitating, letting her guide him away from the wagons and through the streets between the buildings. It only took him a moment to realize she was leading him down towards the lake in the distance. After cutting over a couple streets they stepped through a row of homes and made their way down over grass that soon turned into rocks and sand before sloping down to where the lake lapped at the shore.

Beth guided him over to the right, where the high wooden wall stretched its way down to into the water. There by the shore, sat a large flat-topped rock a few feet high, close enough to the edge for the water to faintly lap at the base of it. "This is my favorite place to sit and relax," she remarked, letting go of his hand to hop easily up onto the edge of the rock. "When I've had a busy day, or I just need to clear my thoughts…" Glancing over her shoulder at him, her lips curved into another inviting smile. "Come sit with me, Daryl."

Rather than sit beside her, he climbed up behind her with a grunt that had her flashing him a grin. Instantly, he grumbled, "I know, I'm old, don't go teasin' me, girl…"

"You're not old." Beth smiled as he settled behind her, his legs on either side of her slim frame and his arm wrapping lightly around her waist. "You're just the right age."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm. In my opinion, anyway."

He wasn't going to argue, but especially not when she was settling back against him and his nose was filled with the sweet scent of her hair.

They stayed there in quiet for awhile, Daryl just holding her back against his chest, Beth's hands brushing over his arms as they stared out together at the lake. The water rippled faintly with the movements of the fish flitting beneath the surface or in concentric circles caused by the frogs who plopped into it from the shore. The sun, high above, reflected its wavering circle onto the water even as it warmed both them and the rock they sat on.

Between the rise and fall of her back against his chest and the calming vista in front of them, Daryl felt the tension begin to ease from his body, and just when he'd begun to truly feel relaxed again he heard Beth softly say, "I used to imagine sharing this with you, you know. Just getting to sit with you, in the most peaceful place I've found in a long time. I just knew enjoying it with you would make it even better. I guess I was right."

When he hummed softly in agreement, he saw her turn her head just enough to look up at him from the corner of her eye. Her hand slid over his where it rested across her stomach, fingers lacing lightly through his own as she went on, "I don't plan on losing this feeling, you know. I don't plan on losing you another time. We've spent too long apart to do that again, Daryl." She paused a beat, and turned a little bit more, her knowing eyes peering into his own as if she could read the thoughts written within them. "That's what you're worried about, right?"

Out loud, all he did was grunt faintly in response. But at the same time his hand tightened reflexively against her stomach, holding her instinctively closer as if some part of him instinctively dreaded her being pulled away. Which was, of course, exactly what he was afraid of, as if some unknown force might come and snatch her away from him forever. Yet again, Beth knew just how to see to the heart of him, especially when it came to his fear.

"It's complicated, I know it is. You have your home, and I have mine. We both have family there, and I have family here."

"So do I," he grunted finally, lifting his other hand to brush his fingers lightly across her cheek as she stayed half-turned in his arms to look back at him. "I've got you. You're my family here."

"I'll be your family wherever we go," she murmured back, shifting to kneel between his legs on the rock so she could turn and fully face him. She reached up, one hand gently tucking his long hair behind his ear as she promised, "We'll figure something about. But whatever we decide Daryl, I already know one thing for sure."

"Mm?"

"Yeah. Whatever decision we make, it'll involve _us_. You and me. Side-by-side." She smiled, a hint of silliness that he guessed was spurred by the same happiness he felt just having her close and at his side. "You found me after ten years, Daryl. I mean, you know you're stuck with me now, right? Here, there, it doesn't matter. You're not gonna shake me."

Behind her a bird swooped low over the water, skimming the surface and sending ripples across the sun-mirrored water. The sky was a bright clear blue above, dotted here and there by fluffy white clouds and the golden circle of the sun. The air was crisp and warm, filled with the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze and the distant sound of people behind them. It was, in a word, perfect. Tranquil. Gorgeous.

But he saw none of it. All he saw was Beth filling his vision, Beth with her crown of shining blonde hair, Beth with the scars that marked her skin but didn't marr it; because they were simply a part of who she was. Beth with her wide, blue doe eyes and her full lips curved into a sweet smile. Beth and her promises that were playful, but nonetheless serious.

He lifted both hands and cupped her face, thumbs skating across the apples of her cheeks as he peered right back into her eyes and replied easily, "Ain't nobody else I'd rather be stuck with but you."

And the rest? Well, she was right. The rest they could figure out. This was what really mattered.

* * *

The idyllic nature of the next couple days spent with Beth didn't make the last ten years disappear, but they did make it feel like something he had conquered. As if the past decade was a near-constant storm that he had weathered, only to finally break through into the sunlight.

He had known that it couldn't go on like this forever, if only because soon the caravan would need to leave again and head up back north and as such a decision would need to be made. He had expected it to be one that required discussion. What he hadn't expected was for Beth to make an easy decision and present it as if it were the most obvious and simple thing in the world. Then again maybe he should have, because when did Beth do what he expected anyone else would?

They'd been together in Holly Hill for three days when Aaron came over for lunch. It wasn't the first time the Alexandria resident had met Beth; after giving Daryl space for a day his friend's curiosity had won out and he'd come by to meet the woman Daryl had been mourning the entire time they'd known each other.

Aaron and Beth had hit it off immediately, the way Daryl had figured they would. Aaron had instantly been taken in by Beth's sweetness and warmth, and Beth seemed to immediately like Aaron's polite charm. By the end of lunch they were all laughing together as Aaron and Beth shared stories; quite a few about Daryl and his well-known grumpiness, which he didn't mind.

The best part of that first meeting had been when Daryl walked him to the door, and Aaron had reached up and squeezed his shoulder. He didn't say a word, but he didn't have to. Everything Aaron wanted to say was in his eyes, filled with his relief and joy at his friend having found his own happiness again.

So he knew what fueled the hesitancy in Aaron's words at the end of lunch today, when he caught him in the doorway and said carefully, "I just wanted to let you know… the caravan is all ready to go. We've unloaded everything for them, and gotten their trade settled into our wagon. Maybe another day or so of rest, and then we'll be ready to head back… if you are, anyway."

With his heart sinking in his chest at the reminder, Daryl's reply was just a nod and a grunt before he sent Aaron on his way. Unhappy but with no other options, he turned towards Beth, intent on sitting her down and finally talking through this to come to some sort of decision. But before he could say a word, Beth was at his side lacing her fingers in his. "C'mon," she said again, tugging him after her out the front door and down the steps. It wasn't the first time she'd done this since they'd reunited, gripped him tight and just pulled him along in her way, and yet again all he could do was chuckle and follow after her.

"Where are you takin' me this time?" He questioned, briefly distracted by the bounce of her ponytail and how it was matched by the sway of her hips as she headed across the lawn.

"Well," she said easily, glancing over her shoulder at him with a slow smile, "I figure if we're heading on the road soon, there's something I wanna show you before we go…"

Just like that. Before _we_ go. Like it was so simple and easy. It took him aback to the point that he couldn't even form an answer, but thankfully all it took was another look over her shoulder for Beth to see the question on his face.

Slowing so she was right beside him, Beth gently squeezed his hand and murmured, "I don't know exactly what we're gonna end up doing, because I don't want to leave this place forever. But that's my family up in Virginia too, Daryl. If you thought I wasn't going to hop on a wagon to see them…"

She was right, of course. He should have known that Beth would want (or need) to see all the people she'd been separated from for ten years. Rick and Michonne and Judith and Carl and Carol… even Maggie, regardless of how complicated her feelings for her sister were.

"And after?" He couldn't help but ask, just as he couldn't help squeezing her hand a little bit tighter as soon as the words left his lips.

"I don't know. We'll have to figure that out, I guess. Because this place is my home, they're my family too. I don't want to leave them." She let their entwined hands swing lightly between them as she mused, "Maybe… maybe we could stay here together and take trips up North, or maybe somehow we can convince some of them to move down here instead or… I dunno." She tugged him closer, her steps slowing as they moved around the side of a house. "I just know I'm sticking with you, and we're going to see our family. And after that, we'll see." Beth glanced up at him with a little smile. "Sound good?"

It sounded like the best they were gonna get right now, and considering it involved her at his side, Daryl was okay with it. Hell, he was more than okay with it. Just knowing that she would be right beside him and that neither of them intended on separating was more than enough to lift the weight of tension from his shoulders again. So he nodded in agreement, his gaze lingering on her pleased smile until she tugged him around to the back of the house they're walked to and came to a stop.

His focus was pulled to a structure set up in the middle of the lawn. From here he could see three wooden walls with a door on the front serving as a fourth, sitting on what looked like a slatted wooden base. The thing couldn't be more than five or six feet wide, and on top of it was a massive barrel with a hose coming out of it to lead down into the wooden structure below. As Daryl's brow furrowed in confusion, Beth slipped her hand from his and practically bounced forward, her blonde hair flipping with her light steps as she pulled open the door and gestured inside with a grin.

"It's a solar heated shower," she exclaimed, pointing up to the showerhead above, which he could see now was connected to the hose and the tank above. "The sun heats the water up there, and then you can turn it on down here and have a nice warm shower! Well, when it's warm anyway. No one even dares to try it in the winter, we stick to baths then."

Though Daryl took a step closer he didn't reply. His gaze trailed from her, to the shower, and back again, his eyebrow raised in a silent question that had her giggling. She reached for him, curling her fingers into his shirt and tugging him closer to tease, "Didn't I say something about keeping my eyes on you even if you took a shower? I _seem_ to remember something like that. But I mean, if you've forgotten, or if you're not interested…"

That sealed the deal. With a low little growl he tugged her into the shower with him, closing the door and latching it decisively behind them. At her little giggle he rounded on her, hands sliding over her waist to tug her close until she leaned up on her toes to press a kiss to his lips with a pleased hum.

As his hands slipped under her shirt to tease her skin, he asked lowly, "People gonna come by and get curious?"

"Probably not," Beth murmured back, another little laugh bubbling free as she nibbled on his lip in a way that made him groan. "Most people are busy with their jobs for the day, or having lunch. Plus we wouldn't be the first people to turn this into a shower for two… you know, conserving water, and all."

"Oh right," Daryl replied, his voice gravelly as he found the hem of her shirt and tugged it up over her head. "S'very important, ain't it? Conservation?"

"Mhm. I'm happy to do my part, aren't you?"

But he just smirked lazily back at her, because as much as he enjoyed their banter, it was hard to form words let alone sentences when she was standing there shirtless in front of him.

In between hungry kisses and playful caresses, they managed to strip all their clothes off, setting them on the small shelf built into the wall by the door and out of the spray of water. The air on his bare skin made it ripple with goosebumps, but one look at Beth, naked and reaching for his hand to lead him under the shower head, instantly banished any sense of chill.

There was only warmth as he wrapped his arms around her from behind and felt her bare back press to his chest. Soon, with a twist of the knob in front of them, sun-warmed water fell like rain from the large shower head above; it wasn't a very firm stream but enough to get them good and wet. Not that either of them was really thinking about getting clean.

As she'd reminded him, it was important to conserve water. Daryl took that very seriously, of course. Which was precisely why as soon as they'd gotten nice and wet, he turned the water off _first_ , before distracting Beth so he could pin her to the sturdy wall of the shower. The only water now was what remained, slick on their skin, allowing their bodies to slide against each other as he lifted her up, wrapped her legs around him, and pressed her back against the warm wood again.

He licked droplets off her collarbone, chasing them over her shoulder until they spilled down her arm, all while she tangled her fingers into his wet hair and tipped her head back in a soft moan that exposed the curve of her neck to him in offering. And as he worked his way across the delicate arch of her neck she moved into him, tightening her legs around him and inviting him to shift his hips and slide into her with a growled moan that vibrated through both their bodies.

It might have been nice to have a spray of water steadily warming them as their bodies moved in unison, but they didn't need it. They kept each other warm, generating their own heat both outside and within, making their blood stir with each hard thrust of his hips against hers. Beth used the wall at her back as leverage to rock her hips forward, grinding herself against him until they were both gasping.

It didn't take long to bring them both to the edge again, between the slide of his hands over her slick curves and the thrust of his hips driving him deep. She came first, shivering in his arms as he used every muscle he had to hold her up and keep her pinned there to ride out her climax. And after he came himself, spilling onto the wooden slats beneath them with her name on his lips, he fell forward against her, pressing both their bodies against the wall as she breathed out a husky chuckle against his neck, and murmured, "Good thing we didn't soap up, yet, or we'd have to wash all over again."

"Mm," he hummed back, hand tracing the curve of her hip one more time before he carefully set her on her feet again. With a smirk, he wrapped his hand around hers and tugged her back under the showerhead as he teased, "See, I'm all about doin' my part to conserve water, too."

With a grin and a hum of her own, Beth just murmured playfully right back, "I never doubted you."

* * *

It took more than a day to prepare for Beth to leave with the returning caravan. If he hadn't been aware after his first days there how many responsibilities she had in Holly Hill, he would have been by the end of that second to last day. First the people on the council with her had to be notified, plans had to be made for people to take over her responsibilities, then they had to set up a system to find and contact her in case of emergency, it went on and on.

Plus of course once word got around, half or more of the settlement residents came by to see her, all of them seeming to want reassurance, openly or otherwise, that she would return. It was just another reminder to Daryl of the complexities of their situation, but also, that Beth well and truly belonged here. This was her home and she couldn't abandon it, and he didn't want her to have to; just like he didn't want to abandon her.

(And wouldn't. No matter what concessions he had to make to ensure it.)

Eventually everything was as squared away as it could possibly be, and the following morning they were ready to set out. With her carefully packed bag slung onto her back beside her crossbow, Beth mounted up on her horse; a sweet-tempered mare with a strawberry roan coat and red mane named, amusingly, Strawberry. He was pleased to see that Strawberry and Harley seemed to get along, anyway. The horses had nuzzled each other curiously for a bit and then seemed content to stay beside each other as he and Beth lead the caravan out of the gates of Holly Hill Settlement, to the waves and cries of goodbye of the residents who had come to see them (and really, Beth) off.

Once they left the settlement and headed down out of the forest towards the path the caravan usually took back North, sun slanting down through the canopies of trees, silence fell around them. Or a natural silence, at least, one punctuated by the calls of birds and the chittering of squirrels, interspersed with the clatter of the wagons behind them as they made their slow, careful way down the beaten dirt path.

They rode side-by-side, and despite Daryl's attempts to keep his eyes on the road ahead his gaze would always drift back to Beth, and he'd remember the days after he'd lost her. He'd remember weeks of feeling empty and hollow inside, weeks of nothing but his feet carrying him forward despite the fact that his heart remained behind, shattered across that hospital's hallway floor. He'd remember how in the weeks and months that followed, the anger and guilt and sorrow would build up within him, clogging his heart and thickening the air in his lungs. How he'd struggle with it until it was unbearable, until he had to slip away just to choke it out in wet, muffled cries like he hadn't made since he was a kid slowly coming to terms with the fact that no one in the world cared about him except for himself.

It had been like that all over again, after he'd lost her. Like the world had given him a brief glimpse of what it felt like to have someone really care about you. Not just because you were useful, or because you were there, but because they _saw_ you. Because they looked at you and saw your fears when no one else did, and they tried to help you through them. They didn't back down. They _cared_.

She had cared, like no one else had ever cared about him before, and losing her really had felt like a light inside him going out. For ten years that flame had remained dormant, despite the family he'd made for himself in Alexandria. Until now. Until against all odds she had come back into his life and sparked that light within him yet again, stronger now than ever before.

Was it any wonder he couldn't stop looking at her?

In the midst of his gaze lingering on her yet another time, Daryl was broken from his focus by Beth's bright laughter. "Okay seriously," she teased, guiding Strawberry closer to him for a moment so she could peer into his eyes. "Do I have something on my face, or something?"

"What?" Blinking away the last vestiges of his distracted thoughts, Daryl furrowed his brow at her.

"You keep staring at me! I was just wondering if there was something on my face…" He could tell from her teasing tone and the playful little smile on her lips and lighting up her eyes that Beth was just joking; she knew, on some level anyway, why he kept finding his gaze drawn to her.

"Maybe I'm watchin' to make sure you don't fall of that horse or somethin'," Daryl joked back, flashing her a smirk of his own.

"Hey, Mister. I was riding horses way longer than you." She giggled. "I mean, _I_ wasn't the one who got thrown by old Nellie, was I?"

"That horse was jumpy as hell," Daryl grunted back, amusement at their banter bright in his eyes despite his gruff tone. "Ain't no way that was my fault."

"Mhm, _sure_. It's alright, you don't have to worry about me disparaging your riding skills, Mr. Dixon."

The way she said that, a smirk on her lips and a daring light in her eyes, kinda made him wish they were on separate horses right now. If only so he could give her a kiss to distract her, tease her right back, of course.

Instead he had to settle for just shaking his head and narrowing his eyes at her, though even that mock-annoyed expression faded when she said more softly and solemnly, "You don't have to worry about me disappearing either, you know."

"Yeah. I know." Or he should have, anyway. Especially since it wasn't the first time she'd promised him that since he'd found her again. But after ten long years, he couldn't seem to help it. He didn't think anyone would blame him; definitely not Beth, who was looking at him with the kind of understanding in his eyes that had once made him uncomfortable but now only made him feel, well… right. Cared for. Content. "Just need remindin' sometimes, I guess."

He hadn't meant for the words to come out tinged in such an echo to their past. It wasn't just that he could feel the reverberations of it himself, he could see it on Beth's face too, saw the pain of recollection bright in her blue eyes in a way he knew was mirrored in his own.

 _You can't depend on anybody for anything, right? I'll be gone someday._

But unlike then, when she'd dismissed his words with a reply that had been too prescient for him to bear now, this time Beth just looked at him and gave him a soft smile. "I don't mind reminding you of that however you need, Daryl."

As they ambled down the gradually sloping road Daryl thought that for now at least, all he needed was her, right there at his side.

* * *

They made a pretty steady pace on their way back up North. There was less of a need to stop at any settlements on the way; on a longer trip he might have tried but between his worries about the state of things back at Alexandria, and his desire to get Beth there to see the family she had been separated from for ten years, Daryl was inclined to take a quicker pace.

Still they made time for some stops, including resting for the night at the settlements that they'd planned their route to pass for that purpose, or at other stopping points built by the caravans over the years.

One, for example, was a former camping ground by a Tennessee lake, right near the border crossing into Virginia. Several years ago it had been turned into a stop for any caravans or travelers passing through; though not as well fortified as the settlements were, it had a sturdy wall that did a good job of keeping out any stray walkers. Inside the space were also hitches for the horses and troughs that could be filled from the camp-site's old well.

Having pitched a few tents and settled in for the evening, with the sun not quite setting yet, Daryl and Beth had decided to head out into the surrounding woods to see if they could catch something to eat for dinner. Or at least, that was his excuse ostensibly when he tugged her away from the group. What he really wanted was a chance to see her use the crossbow she carried so easily on her back. It was smaller than his own, and with a manual crank that he knew would allow her to draw the bow, something she'd not been able to do with his. He had a feeling the more appropriate size meant she'd be even more skilled at using it than she'd become with his bow all those years ago.

As he watched her striding beside him through the woods with the bow settled in her arms, pausing to survey the ground around them, Daryl found himself teasing, "So you gonna actually show me how you use that thing, or just lug it around to impress me?"

"I dunno," Beth shot back with a smirk, "I mean apparently even me just carrying it around is impressive to you. Do I need to do anything else?"

Frankly she had a point. There was just something about her holding that crossbow that did things to him, and he would've been more than happy to watch her just carryin' it around. But in the end it wasn't just about her holdin' the weapon, not really. What he found so attractive was knowing she could use it. That, and the reminder that he had been the one to teach her.

The memories of those days spent together in the woods, reaching from behind to help show Beth how to use his bow, where to grip and where to sight, feeling her slender body fitting back against his chest… Those were fond memories, without a doubt. Memories that flitted through his mind every time he saw her with that bow in his arms, memories that would no doubt only be fueled further by seeing her use it.

"Just wanna see how good of a shot you've gotten," Daryl remarked after a long moment of silence he nonetheless felt she'd been able to read, despite the lack of any words.

He saw it in the little smile she gave him, and the way her gaze lingered on his for a moment before she drew it away to look around them. "Unfortunately, making a squirrel or a rabbit appear doesn't seem to be one of my skills…"

Daryl chuckled, but after a moment he came to a stop, turning slowly until he fixed his gaze on a tree in the distance, about 30 or so yards away. "There," he said, lowering his own bow so he could stretch out his hand and point. "Think you can hit that, Greene?"

The challenge in his voice was met by a smirk from her and a toss of her head. Instantly she lifted her already-drawn crossbow back up and settled it into her arms to focus down the sight. He was struck immediately by the change that came over her; every inch of her settled as her focus narrowed in. Her gaze was unerring, her body still but relaxed, with just the right amount of loose for her to get the perfect shot. And sure enough, she did. He watched as she inhaled and exhaled slowly but surely and then, as she breathed out one last time, she carefully drew her finger on the trigger and released the bolt.

His heart leaped briefly just as he was sure hers did, breath hitching for one heavy second as he watched the handmade bolt slice through the air to slam right into the middle of the tree trunk. He'd intended to congratulate her, to offer her a smile or some kind of teasing compliment. But then he looked at her. She was all flushed, her cheeks pink and her eyes bright, her chest faintly heaving with her excitement, clearly feeling the same electric energy and heat that raced through his own veins in that moment.

The desire for her that came over him wasn't new, at least not when it came to her. It overrode his normal reticence, as she always seemed to do, and before he even fully knew what he was doing, Daryl had dropped his bow to the ground, closed the gap between them, nudged her bow out of his way, and pulled her into his arms for a hard kiss. Somewhere in between the desperate parting of his lips against hers, Daryl faintly registered the gentle clatter of her bow as she dangled it by the strap and let it fall to the ground, but for the most part he was consumed with the sweet taste of her.

When they pulled apart a few long and very pleasant moments later, Beth's reply was a breathy and husky, "So I guess that means it was a good shot?"

And with that, of course, it suddenly occurred to him that he just had to step back with her until she was pinned to the tree, where he could kiss her until she was not just breathless but gasping for more.

A _more_ that came, despite the risk of their surroundings, in the form of the two of them against that tree, her pants dangling from one ankle and his around his knees, her back firmly against the solid trunk and her legs wrapped around him as he drove into her again and again. Only his lips against hers kept their moans from echoing through the air and summoning whoever- or whatever- might have been nearby. But even that could only half-swallow the moan of pleasure Beth gave when she came undone, crying out his name into his mouth before he pulled free to spill onto the grass beneath them.

After, as Beth did up her jeans and Daryl buttoned his own pants, he was pleased by the way she looked; hair mussed, cheeks flushed, lips swollen by his kisses. For her part Beth seemed more than happy with his own ruffled look, even reaching up to smooth down his hair before they both shouldered their bows again and headed deeper into the woods in search of actual prey again.

They had been silent for a short while, following the semi-fresh tracks of a rabbit, when Beth spoke up softly once more to ask, "So are you going to tell me what's got you worried about everything back in Alexandria?"

When he cast a surprised look at her, Beth gave a little shrug and a wry twist of her lips. "I know you're not just hurrying to get back because of me, Daryl. Plus I heard you and Aaron talking the other day, he sounded concerned too…"

He should have known she'd pick up on it. Hell he would have told her himself, if he hadn't have been so distracted just by having her back at his side in the first place. If anyone could help him figure out the best course of action it was Beth, who tended to see things as clearly as he did but with her own fresh perspective too.

Daryl was quiet for a few moments, but only to try and collect his thoughts and figure out where to start explaining. Beth understood, as she always had, and stayed quiet until he began to speak again, "When they first turned Alexandria into a safe zone, I don't reckon they were thinkin' long term, you know? They wanted to hold on t' how things used t' be. Even when we found 'em, they still were. Filming people for entrance interviews and sitting in pretty little houses with electricity and parties and dinners like it weren't the end of the damn world. Hell, like the world hadn't already ended two damn years ago."

He cast Beth a glance and was amused to see her sniffing in distaste, same as he had all those years ago. It was funny; back then he'd caught himself thinking that Alexandria was the sort of place she would have loved. That she belonged there, with the pristine houses and flower gardens, going to dinner parties in little floral sundresses. But maybe he'd been wrong. Maybe she would have felt just as out of place as he had, or at the very least would have felt uncomfortable with the place and it's attempts to cling unsafely to a world that was long gone.

"Eventually they started to figure out it wasn't gonna be like that, y'know, that shit wasn't magically gonna get better or nothin'. But that didn't change that Alexandria wasn't the sorta place you would've picked t' make a settlement, if you knew it was gonna have t'sustain you. No natural water source nearby, all the land taken up by houses an' buildings we didn't have the machinery to tear down… S'been a lot of making due. Growin' food in backyards, collectin' rain water like y'all do… we've been relyin' a lot on trade these last few years, tradin' what we can get for everythin' we can't, but it ain't perfect. An' you know how people can get."

"Cranky? Picky? Never content with what they have?" Beth's lips quirked into a little smile. "Yeah, I know. We've had one or two over the years, but they didn't last. Most of the people who come to Holly Hill and stay… are the kinda people that belong there, you know? People that know how to work and understand what's needed, and are happy with the kinda life we've made there."

"Mm, well. A lot of the people at Alexandria are still the kind that remember how things used t' be. Or, you know," he shrugged, a look of distaste in the twist of his lips, "Th' kind of people who always think they can do shit better than whoever is in charge."

Beth exhaled in a soft 'ahh' of understanding. Pausing to crouch down and survey some rabbit tracks on the ground, she lightly brushed some leaves out of the way as she asked, "So is that what you're worried about? People causin' trouble?"

"Yeah. S'mix of things, y'know? Low supplies, us relying on trade to get by, an' a group of people who are unhappy with all of it and think they can do better'n Rick and Michonne have." He snorted. "Idiots."

"Sounds like that's the problem," she remarked, looking up at him with a hint of a smile. "Idiots don't usually know they're being idiots. At least, not that kind. Too caught up in how miserable they are, and the misplaced idea that they of course could fix that if someone would just let them."

"Mhm." Daryl watched as she swiped her hair out of her eyes and rose to her feet, confidently following the rabbit tracks as they veered to the right, through some brush. She was just as clever now as she had been then; at following tracks _and_ at reading people.

"Sounds like it might have the potential to be a tinderbox, though." Catching his questioning look, Beth went on, "You know… one spark at the wrong time and boom?"

Yeah. He knew. He understood that concept pretty damn well, because in some ways it was kind of the story of his life. His father had been like a walking tinderbox, always ready to spark into a roaring inferno at a single wrong word or misplaced step. Then the world had turned into a tinderbox of its own, and so maybe in a way his childhood had prepared him for it. He'd grown accustomed as a child to having his hackles up, to always anticipating when something might quickly turn bad. It was a skill that had served him well over the past 12 or so years, too. He knew it was important that he felt that tickling worried sensation at the back of his neck every time he thought about the situation in Alexandria.

"Rick said it'd be fine when I left, but I can't help worryin' about what we might go back to. A lot can change in a couple months…"

"Well whatever we find when we get there, we'll figure out how to handle it," Beth said, her words as simple as her little smile.

 _We_. It was said so simply and casually and naturally, and to be frank that only made it better to hear. _We_. The inclusion of that word, the instant and easy knowledge that whatever happened they would handle it together, it was exactly what Daryl needed to hear. Just the right thing to lower his hackles, to have his shoulders relaxing as he gave her a hum and a nod.

Thanks to Beth's easy promise, when she came to a stop and pointed silently at a rabbit half out of the brush up ahead, Daryl was more than relaxed enough to take the shot, sending his bolt right through the rabbit's heart. When it tumbled over Beth was right there in front of him, an appreciative look in her eyes and a smile curving up her lips as she slung her own bow over her back, closed the gap between them, and rose up on her toes to give him a kiss.

He knew they needed to get that rabbit before any walkers nearby scented the blood… but he didn't mind delaying it just a few moments at least. Not when it involved Beth's fingers curled into his shirt and her hips beneath his hands and her lips pressed to his, of course.

* * *

When he'd first arrived in Alexandria ten years ago, it had been with Aaron leading the way and Beth just a whispering voice inside his head and an aching loss weighing down his shoulders and heavy in his heart. Perhaps it was only fitting then that now, a decade later, he returned from his journey with Aaron guiding the wagon behind him and Beth riding the horse right beside his own; his heart no longer broken or heavy but alive and beating again

There was no welcome party, this time. There wasn't even anyone there at the gate to open it, a fact which made his stomach twist and not for the first time today. His hackles had been up all day and he wasn't the only one; he could tell Beth had some premonitory sense of dread too, though whether her worry was about meeting their family again after ten years or something else entirely, he didn't know.

He'd imagined they'd ride into the safe zone and he'd lead Beth right to their homes, walk her into the midst of their family and watch their disbelief and awe. He hadn't imagined they'd come back instead to a shut gate and the worrying sounds of raised voices coming from within. He certainly hadn't imagined that Beth's return would come in the form of her riding cautiously into town at his side, fingering the strap of her crossbow as his own fingers twisted around the hilt of his knife.

Having left the wagons behind at the gate for safety, they rode towards the center of the safe zone, Aaron following behind on foot. The further in they got, the louder the sounds and shouts became; they weren't near enough to hear the words but Daryl could tell it was a back and forth. One voice would rise angrily, echoed by several others a few moments behind, to be answered by a firmer, lower voice. That voice at least was familiar to him even without being able to hear the words. Rick.

They came to a stop just at the side of one of the buildings, out of sight of the voices in the center of the street. Holding his finger to his lips, Daryl dismounted Harley as Beth did the same on Strawberry beside them. The moment her feet were on the ground he saw her reaching for the knife at her waist, worry on her face though she didn't draw it yet.

With Aaron coming up behind her, Daryl held up his hand to wait for his friend to get close. The other man had only stopped for a second to listen to the raised voices behind them when he frowned and questioned in a near whisper, "Wallace?"

The moment Aaron mentioned that near, the tenser of the raised voices became far more recognizeable. "Mmm."

At Beth's curious look, Daryl gave a grunt. It was Aaron who chimed in, "He's the biggest of the complainers. Leader of that little group and all. Basically a sanctimonious…"

",,. shithead," Daryl finished with a smirk, preferring his own insults to Aaron's much wordier ones.

"Shithead works for me," Beth whispered back, a smile flitting across her lips for just a moment before her gaze drifted to the edge of the house they stood by, the shouting seemingly coming from just beyond it. "So what's the plan?"

Shaking his head for now, Daryl turned and edged close to the side of the building. Staying as silent as he possibly could, he leaned around the corner of the house just enough to finally get his first look at the street beyond them. Before he came up with a plan, he needed to know exactly what they were facing.

It didn't take long to spot the trouble. Rick stood facing Daryl's general direction, Michonne at his side and Sasha coming up down the street behind them. Between him and Rick, however, was a small group of people. Even from here he could tell they were the ones that usually followed Wallace around, the people he could often be seen huddled with, complaining with, getting to sign pointless, useless petitions demanding a different distribution of supplies or whatever bullshit Wallace was pushing that week.

Rick being accosted by Wallace and his cronies was nothing new. What was new, and far more troubling for that matter, was the vehemence with which they were accosting him this time. Wallace was shouting right in Rick's face, and the people behind him kept raising their voices in echo, their shouts carrying down the streets. On either side people poked their heads out of their windows or came to stand on their lawns, though no one seemed to want to venture any closer just yet.

Despite how calm Rick looked, Daryl couldn't fail to notice the tension in his body, and he had a feeling it wasn't just from the shouts but from the weapons several of them clutched in their hands. That wasn't good. This whole situation wasn't good, not one bit. It was just as Beth had remarked a week or so ago, on their journey up north. A tinderbox. Something just waiting for a spark to ignite it.

His plan was only to prevent that from happening. To figure out a way to diffuse the tension, get in there and break it up before things got any worse. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like that group of trouble makers was planning on waiting for him to do that.

No sooner had he turned to Beth and Aaron and began to detail what he'd seen than a shout rang out behind him- _"We're sick and tired of you tellin' me to calm down! We've had enough!"_ \- followed by the loud echoing blast of a gunshot. He turned sharply to Sasha, her gun pointed up in the air where she stood behind Rick and Michonne. Unfortunately, if her plan had been to silence the crowd, it hadn't worked. In fact it only seemed to fuel them, because as soon as the echo of the shot dissipated, the angry group of residents decided to launch themselves forward as one mass.

He saw shovels clutched in hands and knives raised as Rick and Michonne began to back up, clearly not wanting to make this worse by hurting anyone they didn't have to. He knew that if it came down to it they'd fight to defend themselves though, and that was exactly what he needed to prevent.

In the end, he and Beth didn't need a plan. It only took one glance, just one long look full of silent communication that felt natural and easy, as if they hadn't been separated from over a decade. In unison they lifted their bows into the air, stepped out from around the building, and fired towards the crowd.

They didn't aim to hurt, of course. Just to give the idiots something to think about; like Daryl's bolt right through one of their hats, and Beth's sent whizzing barely two inches in front of Wallace's face.

"Nice," he grunted at her with a brief hint of a smile that disappeared as he strode forward, Beth staying just slightly behind him. Fixing his narrowed eyes and intimidating expression on the startled group of residents who had instantly spun around to face him, Daryl growled, "Y'all wanna reconsider what you were about to try?"

"Dixon!" There was a comically wide-eyed look on Wallace's face as he spun to face Daryl. His hands instantly flew up as he sputtered, "We weren't gonna do anything, honest-"

"Yeah, I'm sure you weren't." To be fair he didn't think they'd planned to come out here and attack Rick and Michonne. He was pretty sure they'd just gotten all worked up, thanks to Wallace the dimwit here, and let themselves get carried away. He could see the guilt on their faces now as reality hit in the wake of that dissipated anger and left them to face what they'd almost done.

For his part Wallace still seemed incapable of shutting up, his gaze darting from Daryl's face to his crossbow and back again as he spluttered, "Look I just wanted to have a talk, that's all! About the way things are going here. See, we all think that there's more that can be done, that maybe it's time for a change-"

"You think I care what you think, after findin' you out here in the middle of the street waving weapons at my friends, hm?" When his sharp words and raised eyebrow had Wallace finally faltering, Daryl gestured roughly up the street with his crossbow. "Go on. Get home. We'll talk about this later. Like _civilized_ folk and all." He paused just long enough for Wallace to open his mouth as if to protest, and then growled roughly, " _Go_!"

From behind him Beth's voice called out, "I'd listen, if I were you. Or do you need a little more motivation?" He couldn't see her, but he didn't even have to turn over his shoulder to imagine what she might be doing, maybe lifting her crossbow and gesturing with it to intimidate them. Whatever it was, it worked. The group turned with only a hint of grumbling and hurried off down the road with only a few worried looks over their shoulders.

And with them gone, there was nothing standing in between him, and Rick, Michonne, Sasha… and the woman coming up to stand visibly beside him.

With his eyes on Rick and Michonne, Daryl saw the moment the realization hit them. Rick had been standing there with his hand curled around the hilt of the gun on his hip, Michonne with her arm reaching back for the handle of her blade. In an instant both their hands fell away, their mouths dropping open in shock. As she came to stand beside him, arm brushing his as she slowly lowered her crossbow, it was Rick who issued the first breathless, stunned exhale of her name, "... Beth?"

Never mind that Daryl had been stunned almost to his knees at his first sight of her a couple weeks ago, or that he'd been barely able to talk himself. Riding the high of adrenaline after that near-fight, as well as the unending good mood he'd been in ever since that day he'd found her again, Daryl couldn't resist flashing a grin from Rick to Beth and back again as he teased, "Well, this wasn't exactly how I planned on the big reveal goin' down, but I guess it'll do. Rick, Michonne-" He glanced behind them to where a wide-eyed Sasha was coming close, her gun dangling loosely in her hand, "Sasha? Check out what I found down in Georgia."

As the others stood there struck in disbelief, Daryl nudged Beth's arm and added, "I mean, it's not a wagon full of flour or food, but I reckon it ain't so bad…"

"Daryl!" Even when she tried to scold him, Beth was grinning, and he knew he was too. He couldn't help it. She was there with him, back with their family… and he was so fucking happy.

* * *

Of course the reunion wasn't all just him making jokes, though the happiness he felt was one of the many emotions strung through the moments that followed. Somehow, in what seemed like a wave of hugs and laughs and tears and exclamations of disbelief, they made their way down the street to the home Rick and Michonne shared with Judith and Carl, and sometimes Daryl.

The entire thing seemed to be happening in flashes of moments shaded with emotions to the point that it all began to blur, though through it all he was constantly aware of Beth's presence close to him, her hand reaching out to him when things got too much, or too overwhelming for her to handle on her own.

He remembered Rick wrapping his arms around her and lifting her up right there in the street to hug her tight, and Michonne, tears in her eyes, kissing her forehead as she went on about how good it was to see her in a tone that belied her obvious emotion.

There was the moment they'd stepped into the house and looked up to see Carl at the top of the stairs, calling down some question about the commotion outside only to stop short when he saw Beth standing there in the entrance looking up at him. Then it had been just a rush of limbs as Carl practically hurtled himself down the stairs and flung his arms around Beth, holding her tightly until he pulled away to look down at her, both of them dissolving into laughter at the fact that he was now so much taller than her.

At some point, Sasha left to get the others, though either she'd told them nothing or they hadn't believed her, because their shock as they'd come inside had been entirely natural. Carol had wrapped Beth up in her arms and squeezed her tight, smoothing her hair over her ears and cupping her face to look into her eyes, stumbling over her attempts to comment on how much _she'd_ grown. Then, as Eugene and Tara and Rosita watched from the edges of the room, caught up in the emotional reunion but not quite part of it, Maggie had stumbled inside with Glenn and Bethany right behind her.

That moment, fraught with so many emotions as it was, struck him the hardest. Despite how he knew Beth had been hurt by the revelations about her sister, he still saw her expression crumble and tears slip down her cheeks as Maggie herself fell to her knees in shock. Beth stumbled forward a few steps and her sister wrapped her arms around her, pressing her face to Beth's stomach as behind them, little Bethany's voice rang out from Glenn's arms, "Who that, Daddy? Why Mama cry?"

"That's your Auntie Beth, sweetie." Glenn's voice was just as choked up as Maggie's was, but Daryl saw the man manage a tremulous smile as his eyes met Beth's own. "And she's crying because she didn't think she'd ever see her again. She's cryin' because she's so happy."

Which in the end, despite all the tears, was exactly what they all were. Happy.

Happy to have Beth in their midst again, sharing hugs and laughs and disbelief and tears. Happy to introduce her to the people they'd considered family all these years, that she'd never met; Tara and Rosita, Eugene, Glenn's sister Lela, and of course Bethany. Happy to see Judith peering shyly from around her father's back only to bravely make her way forward and give Beth a blinding smile as Beth lifted her hands to cup Judy's face and breathlessly exclaimed over how much she'd grown.

They were happy even to cry, the lot of them, when Beth whispered that Judith probably didn't remember her at all and Judy shook her head and firmly disagreed, "No, I do. I _do_. I remember your hair, and I remember… I remember…" The willowy young girl screwed up her face in concentration, but just when her father began to reach for her to tell her it was alright, Judith started to sing in a soft, tuneful voice, " _When I'm lying in my bed at night, I don't wanna grow up. Nothing ever seems to turn out right…_ "

When Beth began to cry at that, they all did, and no one seemed surprised. In the end, they were happy tears.

He felt just as full of joy still when they all began to settle into seats around the living room, clamoring for Beth to tell her story. Because even with Maggie sticking close by her side it was Daryl that she came to, sitting on the floor between his legs where he was perched on an arm chair and leaning back to let his fingers lightly comb through her hair as she told them what she'd told him; how she'd survived, how she'd made a life for herself, and eventually how he'd found her, too.

No one seemed to question their closeness, though he wondered if it was just that they were still caught up in seeing her again, or enraptured by the story she wove in her melodious voice. Whatever the reason, not one of them raised an eyebrow at the way she leaned constantly into him, and kept her fingers curled around his leg. And no one mentioned a thing when he took over the story to tell them how he'd found her, and Beth in turn relaxed with her cheek pressed to the inside of his knee.

(He saw their smiles, though. Saw Carol watching him with a warm look in her eyes, saw Michonne give him a soft smile and a slow nod, saw Rick tilt his head just slightly and hum as his lips turned up a little bit when Daryl's fingers began to curl into Beth's hair again. So maybe they did see. Maybe they just didn't mind at all. Maybe they understood, after watching him mourn her for the last decade.)

The night wore on and turned into a late one. They shared dinner, told more stories, caught Beth up on their history here in Alexandria. At one point he saw Maggie try to grip Beth's hand and tug her outside, only to be met with resistence in the form of a shake of Beth's head as she pulled away and headed towards him instead.

He lifted his arm the moment she got near and let her slip under it to tuck herself against his side. Tension was tight in the lines of her body, especially with the weight of Maggie's gaze still on her back, but when his arm settled over her shoulders and back, she relaxed into him with a sigh. "Everythin' alright?"

In the quiet she pressed closer, and he hummed as he rested his chin on her head to comfort her, just holding her close until she murmured, "I think it's just been a very long day, that's all."

"Ain't that the truth." Daryl didn't say anything more, didn't ask her what it was she wanted. At least not out loud. He just looked into her eyes and waited until she gave a slight nod; that was all he needed. With a squeeze to her shoulder, he remarked to the room that it was gettin' late and that they needed some rest after the long trip they'd had.

In the end everyone seemed pretty understanding. He saw reluctance in Maggie's eyes, confusion etched across her face as Beth gave her a quick hug and let her hesitantly make her way to the door with Glenn and Bethany. But in the end everyone left; or at least, everyone who didn't live there. With Carl and Judith talking softly in the kitchen it was just him, Beth, Rick, and Michonne, who gave them a silent smile and ran her hand lightly down Beth's arm before heading up to her and Rick's room.

"We'll see you both tomorrow," Rick remarked, reaching up to squeeze Daryl's shoulder. "Gonna have to talk about Wallace. Whatever situation you diffused, it won't last."

"I know," Daryl remarked, though his focus was mostly on the woman at his side and the little yawn she gave as she pressed against him and gave Rick a sleepy smile. "We'll figure it out tomorrow. C'mon, Beth. Let me show you upstairs."

"You're lucky," Rick teased, moving past them up the staircase and calling back over his shoulder, "He's got a room and everything. A couple months ago you'd have been sleepin' out on the porch if you tried to go to his room…"

"Hey! That was years ago, Grimes." Shaking his head he looked down at Beth, who just giggled sleepily and nuzzled against him.

"I wouldn't mind sleeping on the porch. I wouldn't mind sleepin' just about anywhere-" She yawned, her voice going even hazier, "If it meant bein' with you…"

"C'mon, sleepyhead." He bent down and scooped her into his arms as if she weighed nothing at all, and his face shown with affection as he carried her slowly upstairs. "Let's get you to bed. No porch this time, but I can promise it'll be right beside me."

From now on, if he had anything to say about it.

* * *

He had woken up the next morning in the same bed that had been his for over nine years; at least, when he had been home to use it. Like Beth's attic room in Holly Hill, Daryl's space was up on the top floor of the house, a small room was just the right size for a single bed and his meager possessions, made airy by the open windows.

Unlike the past decade, this morning he hadn't woken up alone after dreams or nightmares in which a blonde-haired girl flitted just out of reach or died again and again in front of his eyes.

Today instead he had woken up to that same blonde-haired girl, now a woman, curled in his arms and fitted tightly against his body, sharing his space, his bed, his heart. Her thigh had been slotted between his, her face pressed against his chest, and his arm slung over her waist to hold her close. He couldn't remember waking up so content any time before in this room, in this house that he'd always felt out of place in.

He had never really belonged here. Over the years he had taken on jobs and roles within the community, but it had never escaped him that the best of those always involved him being away from this place. Hunter, recruiter, caravan leader; the things he was best suited to within this place had always involved being _beyond_ it. Outside of it.

He was an outsider when it came to this town and its neat little streets and lawns that after a decade still whispered to him: _Suburbia_. He had never been a man who felt at ease in straight cleans streets, living in preppy houses with neat green lawns.

In the last decade, the few times he had felt a sense of belonging weren't tied to a place, but to people. To his family. To Aaron and Eric, to Rick and Michonne and Carl and Judith, to Carol and the others.

But it didn't surprise him that his strongest sense of belonging, of rightness, of _home_ had been found now that he had Beth at his side again. Home for him had never been a place, never been four walls and a roof over his head; not for the scared child he had once been, nor for the wandering man he had become. He had only ever felt home in her warm smile and her sweet voice and the weight of her arms around him holding her tight.

Home was their lungs inhaling and exhaling as one.

Home was their hearts, beating to the same rhythm.

Home was Beth. For ten years he'd been wandering again, lost as an adult just as he had once been as a child, wandering through a dark and unknown forest. Trying to get back.

Even now that he had her, that feeling still remained in tatters and whispers; like the bits of a cobweb that clung to skin when you broke through a web. The remnants of that sensation of lostness lingered in the back of his mind as he made his way through the house in search of her, knowing that her presence who make those remnants vanish again.

He'd had her at his side just twenty minutes ago. They'd had breakfast together with Rick and Michonne and Carl and Judith, and then he'd gotten side-tracked by Aaron coming by to discuss the caravan. Now with Aaron gone, his only thought was to find Beth again, following the pull in his gut that always seemed to lead him towards her. This time his instincts took him through the house to the kitchen and right to the back door. But as soon as he reached the screen door, he stopped. Because though he could see her right through the screen door, high ponytail catching the sun as she perched on the back steps, he could also see that she wasn't alone.

Maggie sat beside her, a couple feet of distance between them that seemed to echo the tension in the lines of both their bodies. Beth's own discomfort was far more obvious. She was quiet, and closed off expression on her face as she sat with her back to the door, twisting her fingers in her lap. Maggie on the other hand seemed to be trying her best to avoid the tension and quiet between them, filling it up with her babbling words as she went on and on about everything she wanted to do now that Beth was back.

"It'll just be so good having you here, Beth. You can get to know Bethany and watch her grow up, and we can spend all the time together we want, catching up. I always thought you'd fit right in here, Bethy. That you'd love it, if you were here." Maggie cast a quick glance at Beth, but when her overtures weren't returned she went stumbling on awkwardly, "Hey, I think they're looking for someone to teach at the school, you know, watch the kids during the day, and-"

"Maggie…"

"... and you'd be great there, you were always so good with kids even when you were little. They always loved you."

"Maggie."

"I'm just so happy to have you back Beth, that's all. I missed you so much, you have to know I missed you so much, and now that you're here finally, where you belong-"

" _Maggie_!"

Snapped out of her oblivious rambling, Maggie glanced wide-eyed at her younger sister, taken aback by the sharpness of her tone. Maybe it was that shocked expression that had Beth gentling her voice as she looked into her sister's eyes and said softly but firmly in return, "What makes you think I belong here, Maggie?"

"But- But you're here, aren't you? And we're here. We're your family, Beth…"

"And the people in Holly Hill are my family, too. That's been my home for ten years, Maggie. I helped built it, I helped make it what it is today. I have a place _there_. A place that's more than just being your little sister, and taking care of kids again. I'm on the council, I'm in charge of things… people rely on me. I can't just leave all of that behind to come here and be the… the ghost of that girl you remember."

"But Beth-"

Standing there watching through the screen door, Daryl felt a sense of pride in the woman she had become. The strong, sure woman who was confident enough to speak her mind even when she knew it might sting a bit. "Maggie." Beth reached out and put her hand on her sister's knee, to give it a light squeeze. "I'm not that girl anymore. I'm not the girl you left behind to go off to DC, assuming she was already dead."

Just as Maggie drew back, surprise and hurt and guilt flashing across her face, Daryl heard the firm fall of a footstep behind him. Now it was his turn to pull back, drawing away from the door with a guilty expression of his own only to turn and meet Rick's understanding gaze.

"She really isn't that girl anymore, is she?"

The hint of pride audible in Rick's voice made Daryl respond with a little bit of a smile. "No. She really ain't."

"And she isn't lying about belonging down there, either. About having a place." When Daryl shook his head, Rick crossed his arms over his chest and exhaled in a sigh, surveying his friend with eyes that might not have been quite so all-seeing as Beth's could be but which were, after all the years they'd spent together, nonetheless piercing. "And I guess that means you've got a place, too, doesn't it? With her?"

Before Daryl could do anything other than open his mouth, Rick added, "You don't have to explain it to me. I've been right here for the last ten years, watching you. I've seen how you've been every day since we thought we lost her. I was wrong in the beginning, to think you would eventually move on. You never once stopped mourning her. It took me awhile to understand why, I think, but I figured it out eventually." Rick's gaze stayed steady on Daryl as he went on, "I saw the difference in you the moment I spotted the two of you in the street yesterday. Like this incredible weight had just been lifted right off you. I thought I'd understood how you felt but it wasn't until I saw you with her again that I realized how much you've been carrying around all these years. How much it changed you."

Rick held his eyes a moment longer, his gaze as measured as his words. "It doesn't take a psychic to know you don't plan on leaving her side, let alone that you'll be better for it. I just wish it didn't mean you leaving us behind, too."

"It don't have to." The words came out without hesitation as he drew in a deep breath and looked Rick right in the eyes. If Beth could be strong and brave and say the things on her mind no matter the risk, then so could he. "You know as well as I do that what we have here ain't gonna last much longer. It was a horrible place to make a settlement, and it's a damn miracle we lasted as long as we have. Wallace might be a shithead, but he wouldn't be such a pain if half the shit pissing him off wasn't real problems we're facin'. Relyin' on trade, no game nearby, havin' to grow shit in backyards instead of real farmin' land…"

As he watched and listened, Rick shifted to lean back against the counter, one hand curling over the lip of the countertop as he exhaled another slow sigh. "And this place of Beth's…"

"Holly Hill." The moment he said the name Daryl stood up a little straighter, a new light entering his eyes and making him look almost enthusiastic; a rarity for a man who could be taciturn even around friends. "She's smart you know, our girl. Lead those people up higher, into the woods. Found a village by a lake. They've got a real sturdy wall all the way around it, and the lake blocking one side. Plenty of fish, a whole system set up to get water, game from the woods… and all kinda land around the inside of the walls they use for farming. Livestock, too. Cattle, sheep, chickens… it's good. It's real good, Rick." He paused and then, the words firm and slow and meaningful, he added, "It could be good for us, too."

.If it had been a couple years ago even, Daryl knew Rick barely would have listened to him. A few years ago they were still caught up in making this place work. Hell, a few years ago most of them still thought they could find a way. There'd been plans to try and expand, to figure out how to tear down some of the buildings and make more land to farm. But in the years since it had all gone to hell and with each month that passed it seemed like the fabric of the safe zone had been stretched too much, holes worn into it with each new thing that went wrong until even their day to day interactions had become frayed. They were holding it all together with what amounted to old thread and cobbled together patchwork, and it wasn't gonna keep them safe much longer.

Which meant that Rick was fully considering everything that Daryl was telling him. He could see the interest in his eyes, the curiosity, his brain already firing itself up thinking of all the ways this could improve their lives; not just his and Michonne's but as always, his kids. Carl and Judith, little Bethany, even Aaron and Eric's son Daniel.

He knew he'd made inroads when Rick replied carefully, You know any decision we make about this has to be a group one, right? That's how it's always been."

"I know," Daryl replied, going on just as easily, "And you know if we do decide to go… Holly Hill is Beth's place. Her and her friends, they're in charge down there. They've been running it smoothly for almost as long as we've been here. It ain't gonna be like it was when we got here. There ain't gonna be no swooping in and taking it over."

"There won't need to be," Rick said firmly. Daryl's surprise must have shown, because after a moment Rick chuckled. "I've seen enough of Beth to know she's more than capable, Daryl. Hell, I think she always has been, and we were all just too caught up in seeing her as Hershel's youngest girl to realize otherwise. Except maybe you."

That knowing look had Daryl fidgeting in place and running his fingers through his hair, before Rick just chuckled and shrugged it off. "Besides, I'm getting old, don't you know? Hell, I find a new grey hair every damn morning these days. Might be time for me to retire…"

With a shake of his head Rick pushed off the counter and headed into the house, calling out over his shoulder, "C'mon. You know Beth can handle herself when it comes to Maggie. Besides, I'm gonna need you with me to help explain to Michonne why I think maybe we should uproot our whole family again…"

Daryl knew Rick was right. Beth could handle Maggie. Hell, she could handle just about anything. So the look he gave over his shoulder as he strode out of the kitchen wasn't reluctance to leave her on her own, it was more like dread over having to face down Michonne. That woman could make anyone shake in their boots with a single stare when things weren't going her way and frankly, he wasn't looking forward to being on the receiving end of one of those glares.

He'd just have to hope that she was as open to the idea as her partner was.

* * *

The morning sun shone down through the canopies of the trees, warming the grass and the overgrown bushes that lined the weather-beaten road, and making the little drops of dew sparkle as the slowly rising heat made them shrink with each passing hour. The sun beat down on his back again, warming his sleeveless flannel shirt as well as the leather reins in his hand, but for once he barely noticed. Neither did he really pay much attention to the gentle stride of Harley beneath him, or the crunching roll of the wagon wheels behind him, or the clip-clop of the other horses in their party.

He only had eyes for the woman beside him, sitting astride her roan horse like some kinda perfect shining goddess. Of course, none of those old famous artists would have ever painted a goddess like this; messy blonde hair pulled into a loose braid, worn and torn jeans topped with a tank top and his old leather vest, though they might have painted their own version of the faded wings that spanned across the cracked leather over her back.

They certainly would have wanted to catch the radiant smile she flashed him just then as she turned and caught him staring, right before her laughter lit up not only her face but his in return. He ached to touch her. Not to make sure she was real this time, just to feel her warmth, her softness, her perfection. But just as he shifted his horse a little closer and leaned in to run his hand down her arm, a voice called out from behind them, "Hey, you two up front! Keep your eyes on the road."

"Glenn!" Beth whipped around, Strawberry not even faltering in her steady stride as her rider called out sharply,"Don't think I won't come back there and smack you on the back of your head if you keep that up!"

"Don't think I won't do it for her," Maggie chimed in with a laugh of her own.

" _Mama_! Is Daddy being pre- precos- precosh-nous again?"

Whatever Maggie's answer was to little Bethany, it was lost in the laughter that rippled over the group as they made their way down the worn road, up into the hills of Northern Georgia. They were a motley crew of people pretty much all on horseback and escorting their two wagons, both of them filled with what supplies they felt necessary to bring with them. It wasn't much. It certainly wasn't like the days before the walkers, when moving would have involved renting a van and packing up all their furniture. Beth assured them that the open homes down in Holly Hill all had furniture of their own still, and so what they brought with them were mostly clothes, blankets and pillows, and other things they'd collected over the years. That and weapons, of course, and the supplies they needed to feed themselves on the long journey.

Both of the wagons had come from Alexandria. He'd thought they might have to fight for them, but it was surprising how generous Wallace had turned once he'd realized it meant getting rid of the people he'd long seen as standing in his way. There'd been a few short arguments but overall he'd been eager to send them on their way, even if it involved helping them ready for the journey. The only time Daryl had seen his enthusiasm at them leaving really falter was when Rick had pressed a map into his hand, neatly labeled with all the other safe havens and settlements, including their own. _Just in case_ , so you know where to find us, or others that'll take you in.

He could only assume the look that had soured Wallace's expression was at the idea that he might not succeed in running Alexandria the way he'd been wanting to for years now.

The truth was Daryl didn't know if he would or not, but it didn't really matter. If all of Alexandria fell apart without them there, he didn't think he'd mind much. Everyone he cared about, his family, there were all right here with him now. Bringing up the rear were Tara, Sasha, and Rosita, all in a row astride their horses. Aaron and Eric drove the wagon at the front, and Eugene held the reins of the one behind it, with Judith perched next to him and Glenn's sister Lela next to her. Judith was prone to babbling, but out of all of them Eugene and Lela seemed to mind the least. In fact, the little girl and Glenn's intelligent, curious sister were two of the very few who could handle Eugene's long and wordy text-book explanations of everything they passed by.

Beth and Daryl were in the lead yet again and spread out behind them, in front of and around the wagons, were Michonne, Rick, Carol, and Carl, all riding their own horses as well. Originally more of them had been on foot, keeping slow pace with the wagons as they headed slowly South. Thankfully most of the settlements they'd stopped at along the way had been willing to lend them a horse or two, with the promise they'd be returned by Holly Hills' next trade caravan, and by the time they reached Georgia they were all mounted up.

According to Beth they'd reach her settlement just before dinner time today. She'd entertained them all at breakfast this morning, talking about the town center with it's big hall that they'd turned into a meeting place. How it'd be filled with people all sitting at the long tables, sharing out their meal for the evening, lit by lamps hung on the walls and the big fireplace at the end. She'd painted a beautiful picture that had made them all feel welcome before they'd even arrived within sight of the settlement walls.

As they rode side by side now, Daryl's gaze drifted to her again, drinking in the sight of her beside him, gilded by the sunlight. The prettiest woman he'd even known but also the warmest and kindest and strongest, too.

"Almost home," she murmured, nudging Strawberry a tiny bit closer to him with a little smile.

When he nodded in agreement Beth looked ahead up the road, but Daryl's gaze stayed on her. He remembered waking up with her in his arms this morning, the two of them wrapped up in one blanket underneath the rising sun, surrounded by trees and grass, and their family. He remembered the warmth of her body against his own and the matching rhythm of her heartbeat where her chest fit right against his.

In the days after they had found each other again, that rhythmic beat had been like a message to him, thrumming out the same word over and over again: _Alive, alive, alive_.

That it spoke a message to him hadn't changed, but the message itself was new now. It was the same word he heard pulsing through his own veins even now as his body rose and fell to the rhythm of Harley's steady strides, as his lungs drew in and out, as his gaze stayed fixed on the woman beside him.

Every inch of him hummed to the rhythm of that new word, the word he knew was rooted in her. The word he knew would _always_ be rooted in her. In Beth.

 _Home, home, home_.

Holly Hills might have been a short distance away, but he'd already found his home.

Home was right there beside him, wearing his leather vest and glancing over at him with a slow smile and a sweet laugh that echoed through the space between them and made every inch of him feel filled up with warmth and happiness and rightness and love.

His home was and always would be her. _Beth Greene._

 _So let the light guide your way, yeah  
Hold every memory as you go  
And every road you take, will always lead you home._

* * *

• **The fic title comes from the song When I See You Again by Wiz Khalifa.  
**

• **Though I couldn't work some things in because it was all from Daryl's perspective and not Beth's, I don't actually think she was completely celibate during their ten years apart. Though my Daryl is essentially asexual (or rather demisexual), Beth is very much not. When she tells Daryl that she's not felt about anyone the way she did about Daryl though, she's so not lying. I just felt like it would be awkward in the moment for her to be like "well I was involved with one or two people briefly but...", lol.  
**

• **I'm still not entirely happy with certain parts of this (the arrival at Alexandria and most of that section up till the end), but you know, at some point you just have to GO FOR IT.  
**

• **I have a LOT of headcanon and worldbuilding ideas for how humanity gets by now, how the communities and settlements function, what sort of technology they use, etc. But I didn't want to overwhelm the fic with more of it than I already did, lol.**

 **That's about it, I think. I hope you all enjoyed this fic and that the love and work put into it shows. Your comments are always loved and appreciated, and so much a large part of what keeps me writing. Thank you so much for reading!**


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